


1993

by marea707



Category: Take That
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe - College/University, Angst, M/M, Romance, University AU, alternative universe
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-12-18
Updated: 2016-02-21
Packaged: 2018-03-01 22:54:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 61,651
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2790713
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/marea707/pseuds/marea707
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>University AU. Gary studies liberal arts and only wants something different and inspiring. He meets Rob and even though he turns out to be exactly that, he also realizes he’s never met anyone more intriguing. And infuriating. And charming. And ridiculous. And complicated. And, yes, definitely worthy. (Featuring Mark as Rob’s best friend and bass player for his band; Howard as the cranky but funny and sort of crazy drummer; and Jason as the insightful and wise one, manager and absolute foundation of the group)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Somewhere Over The Rainbow

**Author's Note:**

> So, this is my first fanfic in a lot, lot, looot of years. First one in English in 10 years (my first language is Spanish) so please, bear with me, yes?  
> Anyways, this is a story that my sweet [Libby](http://elerinwen.tumblr.com/) and I created and developed RPing together and I just felt like telling it in a fic format. I can't be trusted with free time, that's the thing lol  
> Libby's also being my beta, so I'm sending all my love to her and also thanking her for her patience when it comes to me ♥
> 
> Now for technicalities;  
> The fic is gonna alternate POVs, some are gonna be Rob's, some are Gary's (like the first chapter) and there's one or two that are gonna be Mark's POV as well.
> 
> I've done research for the year and place this AU is situated in, also about activities and about the school the boys are studying at but I may have gotten some things wrong. Sorry if anything doesn't add up. Let's just use our imagination for distances and school life at Yale, alright? That last is for sure not 100% accurate but I think it's not too bad.  
> Also, I'm sorry if some of the British slang or locations are not accurate. I tried, I swear haha
> 
> Either way, If you take the time to read this, I wanna thank you =)  
> If you have comments, kudos, questions or even criticism, I welcome them all very much!
> 
> I honestly hope I'm not making it too boring *hides*

1993\. August of 1993. Clinton just became president of the United States; grunge music is taking over the world as well as plaid shirts and combat boots; some TV show is promising that the truth is out there and everyone is incredibly interested in believing it, just as they are absolutely inclined to believe that dinosaurs could exists nowadays, thanks to Mr. Spielberg’s new hit. Meanwhile this Eurodance artist keep asking what is love, answering with the most ridiculously perfectly catchy dance tune that ever existed and this year, apparently, “Sleepless in Seattle” redefined what rom-coms mean, or so the world seems to think, although Gary is not really that impressed –he is, though, with the soundtrack for the movie. Celine Dion and Clive Griffin really impressed him, they really did. “When I Fall in Love” has been playing in a loop in his head ever since he watched that movie a couple of weeks ago. He may or may not know how to play it in his piano already. Not that he is a Celine Dion fan, please, don’t get him wrong. He is more Beatles, David Bowie, Elton John and a hint of U2. Only, well, maybe he is becoming a bit of a Celine Dion fan? Not that he’ll admit such a thing—  
  
And, as so happens, Harley Davidson Motors is turning 90 years old today, which is something Gary normally wouldn’t know, but someone in this bar decided that this is something worthy of a toast. Weird thing to cheer about really, but considering Gary is in a really old grungy punk pub where a lot of bikers decide to spend their nights apparently, it is not so odd. Or so he reckons. Now, what the hell is he doing in an underground punk pub in the middle of Hartford, Connecticut of all places? Well, he guesses he has his mother to thank for that. Well, in a way he does. He wouldn’t be studying at Yale if it wasn’t for her, that’s for sure. He had his mind set, long time ago, before the idea of doing a semester abroad came about. Gary was ready to finish his studies in Oxford, close to his friends, his family, and maybe take over the world. Or at least become the best art retailer in the world. Or maybe an art historian. Or maybe, if he was lucky enough, be one of those scouts that travel all over the world in search of new talents in small places. Places where others wouldn’t look twice. Maybe music would be his thing. Maybe he’d end up writing incredible sonnets for a living. Alright. Maybe he _didn’t_ have everything sorted out just yet, but he never felt like he was in a hurry. He was enjoying the experience of learning, he really was. Gary’s always been kind of a book worm, if he says so himself, and he is proud of that particular characteristic. So he may not have had a concrete plan for his future, but he was driven. And maybe that’s what ended up making him take on the idea of studying some of his subjects in the US. That and, of course, his mother. “It’s an incredibly opportunity, Gary darling” she said almost 6 months ago with that chipper but respectful tone she uses when she’s trying to convince you to do something you may not want to do “you’ll be able to study what you love in one of the most prestigious institutes in America, meet new people, a new place, what else could you possibly want?” she asked and, back then, the only thing Gary thought of answering to that question was: stability. Which, honestly and in the end, is what drove him to accept the scholarship. _Stability?_ That was absolutely ridiculous. He was only 21 years old and he was thinking about stability? When did that happen? When did he become such a predictable creature? Not two years ago he was the bloke who would go with his best mates to enjoy a night out at one of the most incredibly wild and trendy clubs in Soho only to go to class the next morning with a massive hang over and enjoying every bit of it. Alright, maybe not to the part of enjoying the hangover but yes to the rest. And now he was thinking about comfort and security above what was sure to be an incredible experience in America? No. That was not gonna be him. He wasn’t going to accept that. So what he did accept was the scholarship.  
  
That settles his presence in Connecticut. Now for the punk pub in Hartford. Right, that he has his roommate to blame for. Dale, this blonde pesky Christian southern boy he has for a roommate. Dale came to their dorm a couple of nights ago with a flyer for a band called ‘Midnight Riot.’ He described ‘Midnight Riot’ as being “unpolished, unfocused, unscrupulous, sinfully wild and loud.” And, normally, that’s not something that would call Gary’s attention all that much but, as it was, he was bored with the art life and night life of Yale equally. He hasn’t been in this place for three weeks and he was already missing home. He was missing the tiny streets of Cheshire where jazz bands would play in those traditional gentlemen’s pubs; or those inspiring old hippies having art shows on the streets all over London and the occasional fundamentalist punk rock band that would invite everyone who walked by to see them play at some abandoned building before the coppers decided to break the gig and send everyone home. Those things were not his scene but were things that inspired him, artistically and otherwise. Things that gave him… _life_ , in a way, if you will? Things that made him want to know more, learn more, experience more. Just… live more. And, so far, Yale had nothing like that. Everything around was stuffed cocktails with grand pianos and professors, or fraternity parties which were fun and well but all those things ended up becoming really dull really quick. And he knows it’s only been three weeks and he needs to give the place a little time, get to know the interesting places beneath the surface, maybe get out of campus a little more. So, that’s what he’s doing, he reckons. That’s what he was thinking when he insisted on going to see this band. Even if he feels out of place right now.  
  
Because he does. He feels really out of place and it’s only partly because of the fact that he is a Cheshire boy at heart trying to have a night out at this cheap looking underground pub in the States called ‘Jolly Molly’ that smells like weed and sweat. And also, partly, because he’s wearing these ridiculous pair of dress trousers and a see-through shirt that is more for clubbing than to be in a place where there’s nothing in sight but tattoos, leather jackets, really short skirts, combat boots and various grunge and punk rock t-shirts. Even his hair looks particularly perfect today, something he was really happy with when he looked himself at the mirror before going out but now only makes him feel uncomfortable. And yes, after a couple of glasses of the best whiskey the house has to offer –which was some horrible off brand liquor that tasted like ashes, really- he’s feeling a little loose and open to the idea of enjoying this Midnight Riot band. But still out of place-ish as it is. So he figured a fag was in order. He hates smoking, he really does. He tells himself every day he needs to quit, but he ends up going back to it. He doesn’t have many habits, though. And if smoking two fags a day is the worst thing he does, well, he might be able to live with that, he thinks. Especially when it seems to relax him this much, Gary bargains. In the middle of what was supposed to be his second draft, he hears a voice. Well, one that stands out from the rest of the voices of the people standing around chatting with each other right outside of this pub. It stands out from the rest because it’s sort of a thick voice, kind of alluring, kind of rough. Oh, and it also stands out because it was a voice meant for Gary to listen.  
  
  
“Can I bum one from ya?” the voice says and it comes with a cheeky grin. Half playful, half entitled. Or maybe it’s just that west coast accent Gary’s not used to?  
  
“Sure thing, mate” Gary answers anyways, because he doesn’t know this man and he’s not about to be a prick, is he? So he gives him a cigarette from his pack and helps him light it up while he-- well, he gives a first real look to this bloke. First thing he notices are the eyes. Honestly, aside from those smile lines, the eyes are the first thing you would notice on him. Even though they look a bit red (and Gary is sure that is because he clearly smoked something) those impossibly green eyes looked incredibly piercing, almost determined, even though this man’s entire body language seems somewhere else. He might be something else than stoned, Gary reckons. Or he might be excited about something. Or maybe just restless? Oh, and why all of a sudden he looks somewhat familiar?  
  
“You’re a long way from home, Dorothy. What brings you to Oz?” green eyes and cheeky smile asks and, for a second there, looking into those eyes, Gary forgot. Right, he has an accent. That’s why he has just been called a girl’s name, right? Yes, he understood the reference, thank you very much. Gary’s a massive geek when it comes to musical theater. Also, he understood the reference because he is not a complete wimp. And yes, Gary very deliberately chose to ignore the possibility that this man might be talking about his looks and how evidently _out of place_ he feels. He doesn’t want to feel more vulnerable and out of place. He’s being positive here.  
  
“Can’t be worse than those preposterously insipid bars around campus” is what comes out of this mouth and it does so with this tone… god— this awfully conceited tone that reminds him of his grandmother and he is automatically mortified. Of course his experiences around campus were mind-numbingly boring so far but that doesn’t mean he has to sound like an ungrateful Brit ars when someone’s just being nice enough to make small talk with him over a fag. Someone who, might Gary add, is looking at him between offended and entertained as a response to his terrible comment.  
  
And it’s right then, when Gary takes a full look at that expression on this man’s face, that he realizes something. “You, on the other hand, seem to fit quite perfectly here” Gary says, but now he uses a friendly tone. Before saying another word and as this other man’s looking at him like he’s puzzled, Gary grabs a specific piece of paper he has in his back pocket. “Or… maybe it’s just an illusion?” Gary adds, handing the piece of paper, which just so happens to be the flyer that Dale took home the other day. The Midnight Riot flyer. “I mean, you are the wizard in this Wizard of Oz analogy, yes?” Gary finishes, because on that flyer in the man with two other lads. He’s clearly the singer and the leader, Gary assumes. That would make him the Wizard for the night, if this old grungy pub is supposed to be Oz.  
  
And the other guy seems to understand what Gary tried to say, because even though he looks surprised as he eyes the flyer, he’s smiling. “I think I like you” is what this man says and then gives Gary the flyer back, lingering into his eyes a beat too long and in a way that makes Gary, maybe, a little uncomfortable. Not in a bad way, that’s a thing that should unsettle him but doesn’t, he things. He ignores it though. “But I dunno. I guess you’re gonna have to stay for the show if you wanna figure out if I’m magic or a hoax” the man adds and now in Gary the one that looks puzzled, because this guy looks cocky. Honestly, smug even. And Gary thinks he should not like that as much as he does. I mean, of course it’s a bit irritating, but he finds himself smiling back anyway. And maybe wanting to put him down a bit?  
  
“I don’t have much of a choice, do I? Forgot my ruby slippers” Gary answers in a thick accent and now he is the one that’s sounding a bit off, like he’s not sure if he wants to stay but will anyways, like he needs for this man and his band to prove something to him. “I’m Gary, by the way”, he figures introducing himself is right at this point in the conversation.  
  
“Rob” the other guy answers without hesitation, even though Gary knows he’s being not as friendly as he could. Or would, normally. But this bloke, _Rob_ , doesn’t seem bothered. If anything, he looks interested and amused. Oh, well, finally a name to go with that smug face. “You at Yale?” Rob, asks him.  
  
Even though the sudden unnecessary interest does make Gary a bit confused, he has to admit he likes it. He’s not entirely sure why, but he does. “Semester abroad… Exchange student, as you might’ve figured by now.” he answers, and then explains “Art and history, mainly. I’m taking a couple of music courses as well.” He doesn’t go any deeper than that, because explaining to this random singer why he is not settled into a career path already might be hitting a bit too far in this casual conversation they have going. So, instead “How about you? Let me guess… law?” is what he asks, making a joke, because clearly Rob is anything but conventional, right? With his tight leather trousers, a black tank top that shows off some very distinctive ink and an almost completely shaved head.  
  
“What the--” Rob lets out, almost startled, like Gary guessed something he wasn’t supposed to. Gary looks at him confused, but then Rob is simply softening his features and answering. “Business” he clarifies. Not law, but _business_. Just as boring, Gary thinks, surprised.  
  
“Oh… and here I was just trying to be funny” Gary explains because, really, he’s not in luck today, is he? “You… definitely don’t look the part, mate” and Gary might be, slightly, trying to make amends to someone he doesn’t even know and two minutes ago was trying to put down. “And I mean that as a compliment.” Yes, Gary is _definitely_ trying to make amends, like he thinks Rob might be insulted by his assumptions. It’s just that this bloke’s reaction was anything but pleased, like he felt that he was insulting him in a way and Gary, well, he didn’t like that. Not that he was about to try and understand why exactly.  
  
“Parent pressure, one could say” he explains and then Gary understands. Or, he doesn’t really. But he thinks he does, because maybe that was it, wasn’t it? Rob’s reaction had nothing to do with Gary himself and everything to do with the fact that he may not be entirely comfortable with his career choice. “Also,” Rob continues, cocky expression winning over his face again “I am a god with numbers, so it’s easy for me.” He shrugs before continuing “And, well, with my fingers, but that only makes me good at guitar and other things daddy wouldn’t be so proud of” is what he says in an almost suggestive tone with that smug feature making an appearance again, full force this time. It comes out almost forced, Gary notices. Like Rob is hiding his previous unsettledness with it. And Gary… well, he is not impressed.  
  
“I bet” Gary says, unfazed. He just managed to unsettle mister confidence, so he is hardly buying into the overly-pleased-with-oneself attitude. “So… Gibson or Fender?” he decides on asking, ignoring the rest of Rob’s statement.  
  
“Gibson. If it was good for the king, is good for me” Rob answers, offhandedly. Elvis fan. Gary should’ve known. “You play?” Rob asks he looks suddenly less casual, more interested.  
  
“More a piano man myself, but I do play guitar,” Gary nods, proud. He’s been playing piano since he was ten and, yes, he is proud of that. He also misses it terribly, living in a small dorm means not being able to have his lovely white Yamaha with him and that makes him sort of depressed. “I also play the violin; but I’m sure that doesn’t make me look any cooler” he jokes and that seems to start a quiet laugh in Rob, who’s raising his eyebrows like he’s impressed with this bloke’s choice of instruments and also amused by the sudden recognition, joke or not, that Gary might be trying a bit too hard to look _cool_.  
  
  
And just when Gary’s starting to feel a little more comfortable with this conversation –thinking about other things he’d like to ask this Rob lad, someone comes out like a goddamn tornado. A 5’ 5’’ tornado, but a tornado none the less. He has a huge smile, soft dimples and is yelling things that Gary can’t quite make out, grabbing Rob by the arm and pulling him inside the pub. He’s clearly intoxicated and in a hurry, even though he’s sporting a smile that, Gary thinks, could light up the entire street during a blackout. Only when he notices Gary’s presence is that this boy softens his tone a bit “Sorry, mate! I gotta take the rockstar away. We need him onstage, pronto” and only then Gary notices he has an accent as well. English. From up North, probably. It’s a little washed out like this bloke’s been far away from his motherland for a long time, but it’s still there. So he is one of the other men in the flyer, another third of the band, Gary realizes. “It’s alright, we were only sharing a fag—cigarette” Gary answers and corrects himself all in the same sentence, feeling a little silly that he felt the need to make such a ridiculous correction but the new bloke just laughs a bit, nodding and finally taking Rob inside who’s yelling “See you inside, Dorothy, hope you packed a change of panties!” at Gary with a way too entertained smile and fully assuming tone. “What an ars” is the only thing that Gary manages to mumble but no one’s there to listen anymore. Which is a good thing because it comes out way too fond and captivated to be anything other than a little pathetic. It’s just that now, now that he knows the kind of attitude he expects onstage, he is really interested. Even fascinated by this seemingly arrogant _rockstar_ , wondering if he has the same kind of energy to show him onstage. Or, not _him._ Just to show. _To show_ onstage. Alright, maybe more than a little pathetic.  
  
But no one other than Gary needs to know.

 

***

 

So he goes back into the pub, almost immediately. But he doesn’t go near the stage, he’s trying to keep his cool, he really is. So he goes to the bar instead. Although, to be fair, the Jolly Molly is not that big and he has a perfect view of the poorly constructed stage from where he’s standing at the bar.

He notices noise coming from the stage. Not music yet, only that noise that somehow works as a perfect preamble: people grabbing instruments, some parts of the drums being tested and the strong rubbing of fingers on strings only by mistake coming from the sound system. The band is settling onstage, of course. So Gary keeps his eyes on the other side of the bar and asks the bartender for another shot of whiskey. Or that awful thing they call whiskey in this place, which thankfully comes on the rocks. And just as he’s having his first sip, that husky voice sounds strong and determined, introducing themselves only before the band starts playing. Gary, way too quickly for his liking, turns his head towards the stage with his ass flavored whiskey in hand and… it’s like an explosion. They are loud, wired, certainly unpolished and it’s fairly evident, from the very first song screaming _“let me entertain you”_ that this band is sloppily coordinated. And it’s… shit, it’s fascinating, Gary perceives. As the setlist keeps getting longer, Gary keeps getting more and more impressed. It’s absolutely captivating how the drummer with his crazy dreadlocks manages to be precise and eclectic at the same time. It’s incredibly impressive the way the bass player is interacting with the audience like he knows he could handle every eye if it was directly pointed at him. Only they are not, because every eye is on him. _Rob_. He is the very definition of frontman. One of those singers that control the audiences. He shows attitude and presence as well as superiority and authenticity and it’s… so absolutely and inconceivably alluring. But what really does it for Gary is the… somehow honesty in his presence. He’s not trying too hard; he is not going out of his way to impress everyone and everything around him. Rob looks exactly… right. Like this is what he was born to do. And it doesn’t matter how small the audience is (the place is packed but small so there can’t be more than a hundred and a half people in this place, Gary thinks) he is giving everything to those people. Gary starts wondering, asking himself, things that he knows he shouldn’t be asking. He wonders if this is what Rob dreams. If this is the reason why he sounded so bitter when he talked about “parent pressure” when he talked about what he was studying at Yale. He asks himself how long Rob has been doing this. How long the band has been playing together. He thinks that maybe music is what Rob wants and can’t have the way he’d want. He’s marveled by Rob’s voice. So raw, so fitting. And the audience absolutely agrees with Gary. Oh, they do. They are just as loud as the band, looking at them like they are the next goddamn Rolling Stones and it is, well, fucking mesmerizing, is what Gary thinks is most appropriate way to describe this.

And Gary’s been out, alright? He’s seen bands play, he’s been around. He loves seeing rock bands play, as well as jazz musicians and blues bands, he loves going to piano recitals as well as punk rock gigs. It’s part of an eclectic love in music that he may not always be able to translate to his own melodies, but that he loves all the same. The point is that he is not, definitely not, easily impressed. But Midnight Riot is doing just that. Rob is doing just that. And Gary thinks it’s absolutely absurd. He think that maybe, only maybe, he’s been away from inspiration a little too long? Maybe this sort of languid period of weeks at Yale without having any artist around inspiring him is what’s making him be this wowed. Maybe. Or maybe this is different. Maybe _they_ are different. Maybe he’s losing his mind.

He is definitely losing his mind, because by the time the band is in what appears to be half of their set, he finds himself smiling with the utmost sincerity, whiskey untouched, ice completely melted and he’s aware. Aware and alert to every little thing Rob is doing on stage, the way he’s lost himself in his music, his expressions, his body language, his sweat and well… _Well_. Gary’s not only smiling but he’s feeling touched, buzzing almost. His body feels like is burning and his heart is pounding in a way that is… _different_. And this is the moment that Rob decides to say something that somehow changes everything. Or intensifies it. But mainly displeases Gary.

“This song goes out to the prettiest girl in the entire bar. Thanks for the _fag_ , sweetheart” he says in the smuggest tone he’s used so far, smiling like he’s being malicious, like he knows _exactly_ what this will cause to Gary’s insides even before Gary himself knows, like that’s exactly what Rob wants.

And it’s fast. It really is fast the process in Gary’s head. It stars with intrigue because he doesn’t know who Rob’s talking about at first but then he understands. Because this is for Gary, isn’t it? The dedication, it’s entirely for him. The cigarette. _The Fag._ Rob’s calling him a girl. _Dorothy_. And if there was any kind of doubt it dissipates when somehow Rob’s eyes find him through the crowd and are locked fully on Gary.

Rob’s dedicating a song to him and it feels… well, at first he likes it, that’s the problem. He liked the idea of Rob dedicating a song to him. Just for a second, before his mind fully catches up with what’s going on. But even for a second, he finds himself liking that. Even though he called Gary a girl, even though he’s smiling with the most infuriatingly snobbish smile so far, Gary finds himself pleased. And that? No. That’s not okay. That is not something he’s letting himself feel. Rob is good, Rob is really good, but he is not someone who can just disrespect Gary this way, having a laugh at him and making Gary feel pleased, of all things, by that. Damn no. Rob can play rockstar all he wants but he will not have a proper laugh at expenses of the obviously out-of-place Brit he met not an hour ago. That same Brit who lets himself be marveled by this ridiculously entitled attitude. Like he’s a fucking groupie. Like he is one of those girls that are standing really close to the stage the band’s playing, ogling Rob like he’s meat.

And that’s another thing. Gary’s not gay. Or. Well, he’s not straight either, he thinks. Or he has been thinking that for a while, of that possibility but not in all seriousness. He’s never felt this kind of attraction, he really hasn’t. One or two times, he thought about it. Back home, when they would go out to these gay clubs in Soho with his best mates, Bambi and Ben, there was a time or two when he thought he might be interested in it. But not really. He never really felt the need to do anything about those thoughts. He’s been a serial monogamist since his first girlfriend when he was 17 years old and he only had two girlfriends since that one time, never having casual sex or anything of the sort. And now… No, he might not like men. But, also, he just might. And that… is too much. It’s all too much and suddenly the pub is starting to feel a little too fucking crowded. He’s furious at Rob for trying to make a mock out of him. He’s pissed at himself for buying into this rockstar persona and acting like an easily infatuated idiot. And he’s getting even more outraged at the crowd cheering and at the band starting to play The Ramones’ version of ‘ _Somewhere over the Rainbow’_ on Rob’s cue.

 

***

 

Gary’s out of the pub the second Rob starts singing the first verse and for a couple of minutes he can’t do anything but stay out there, silent, trying to find some clean air, to catch his breath. He stays almost disturbingly still if it weren’t for his heavy breathing, using his hands on the wall at the outside of the pub to find some kind of tranquility or ease in his system, in his thoughts. He stays there until his senses start catching up with him and he starts listening again. _Someday I’ll wish upon a star and wake up where the clouds re far behind me_. The band. He can still listen to it playing from the inside, so he starts walking until he’s far enough that he doesn’t listen to that damn song anymore, but not too far away because if he looks in the right direction, he can still see the damn Jolly Molly sign. He lights another cigarette, hating himself for doing so, but not bringing himself to care. He needs it. He needs to calm himself down, because he feels like he’s burning from the inside right now. He wants to go back in there and be violent. And that is something that never happens to him. He is proud to be someone who’s in control of his emotions, especially when it comes to violence. But he is absolutely beyond that. He can’t even breathe properly with how angry he is and how his heart is jumping to his throat. So he smokes that cigarette and lights another one. He starts thinking that he needs to find a cab to go back to the dorms. He’s in Hartford now and he has a good 30 miles to New Haven where his dorms at Yale are. It’s certainly too late to take the bus so he needs to find a taxi if he plans on going back anytime soon. Which is exactly what he wants to do. Right now he can’t think of anything else aside from getting out of this damn block, away from the bar and this… this cocky singer who managed to destroy his ego in such a short period of time.

Time passes and not one cab is in sight, so he starts getting desperate. He can start walking, hoping a cab will appear at some point, but he has no idea in what direction he should walk. He wants another drink. He wants to stop thinking about that stupid singer and his cocky attitude. He wants so many things and he has no idea how to cope with all of them and he wonders… when was the last time he felt so many emotions all tangled into this kind of mess he’s feeling inside? He’s sure that never happened to him before and gets to the conclusion that, well… that is the reason why he can’t sort himself enough to think straight. And no, of course he doesn’t know what that means. Why being so upset and provoked is making him feel so fucking… alive. Who is this Rob? Where the hell did he come from?

Just when he’s about to give up on the idea of ever finding a car, there’s a voice coming from somewhere behind him. “Wait!!” the voice says. Too close to be ignored. And at this point, Gary could recognize that voice like no other voice he’s met in this country. So he turns to face this voice, to face this man. “Leaving so soon?” Rob asks as he stops his pace, complacent smile intact. Like he’s reading Gary’s head and having proper fun with what he’s done to him.

  
“You’ve got to be bloody joking,” Gary lets out in an absolutely transparent irritated tone, keeping his distance. “You had your little fun, what else do you want?” Because, really, what else could he possibly want? Isn’t it enough that he had his laugh? That he’s probably going to have another laugh when he’s talking to his mates about this silly British bloke that he managed to startle, amaze and then call a girl in front of the entire pub?

“Well… fire, for starters” Rob answers smiling but this time -this fucking time- he’s smiling like he has _other_ plans and he couldn’t care less about a lighter for the non-existent cigarette in his empty hands. And if Gary was even more stupid than he feels right now, he’d be confusing that smile with interest. But no, Rob’s being cheeky. A proper arshole. Even if those green eyes look dark now, while he’s getting a couple of steps too close to Gary’s personal space. What is he…? “Are you angry, Dorothy? Didn’t like my dedication?” he asks and his expression is changing gradually. The smugness is still there but now there’s… yes, that’s definitely interest. That hand he’s placing in Gary’s chest in definitely interest. The way his eyes are locked with Gary’s own is definitely interest. But he is also looking at Gary like he hopes he’s furious, like that’s exactly what Rob wants from him. And that? Is… well, is fucking enraging is what it is. His lip is caught between his teeth like he’s enjoying this, the reaction he’s getting. The way that hand in his chest is making Gary feel is embarrassing and, for god sakes, how can this man still be trying to push all of Gary’s buttons without a fucking care in the world.

“What is your fucking damage?” Gary almost growls and pushes Rob, right against the concrete wall that’s closer to them. And he’s not sorry. Gary’s not a violent person, never really punched anyone in his life, but right now? He feels like right now he absolutely could. So not only he pushes Rob but he uses his forearm on Rob’s throat to keep him in place. And the most enraging thing of all comes next, because Rob’s still looking at him with fucking interest. No, he’s looking at Gary like he’s stimulated. As if this, Gary’s entire demeanor, is functioning as foreplay for him. “What on earth are you doing?” Gary not asks but demands, still angry but now with a fairly amount of perplexion added to this untidy mix that are his emotions. This puzzled state causing his body to betray him, leaving Rob’s throat at ease, even though the other man didn’t even tried to free himself from Gary’s grasp. And it doesn’t stop there, because Gary’s eyes also betray him and they go right to the sight that are Rob’s lips, slightly parted and red, closer than ever. Right then is when Gary realizes that he may have left Rob’s throat at ease but he didn’t move from where he was standing. Close. Unnecessarily close.

“You are such an idiot” Rob says, impossibly sure of himself but almost murmuring it, like it’s something he only wants Gary to listen and no one else. Gary frowns and he’s ready to punch this insufferable person when a set of lips are suddenly on him. And it’s quick. Really quick. Too quick? Rob kissed him. Almost a peck, but a kiss none the less. And it may have stopped because Rob cut that kiss or because Gary took a step backwards on his feet but it stopped all the same and… suddenly that’s everything Gary’s mind could think about. It, stopping. Not wanting it to stop. Because even if somewhere in his mind he’s trying to convince himself that Rob’s trying to mess with him and take all this humiliation a bit further, it all dissipates when he takes a look at Rob’s face. He’s licking his lips, he’s smiling with want, he’s showing an expression that says ‘come here again’ and there is not one trail of mockery in those now unbearably bright eyes.

Gary can’t move. For a full minute he just can’t move. For a full minute he's trying to… deal. To deal with how that kiss is tasting on his own lips and how it wasn’t enough. Trying to deal with how he can’t find cold air but only this burning sensation in his lungs, ridiculously wondering if Rob’s lips can cool it down. Trying to relax his hands, which are impossibly tighten into fists next to his body. Trying to explain himself why (oh good lord why) all that mess of feelings started to merge into only one thing now, one that is not making him feel startled or confused or even angry. Nope. Now all of those feelings could be summed up into only one. One that is a pressing matter to the entirety of Gary’s existence. One that makes the act of _thinking_ a lost cause. One that directs Gary’s hands to be almost digging into Rob’s shoulders, pressing him against the wall again, just as rough as before. Only this time, the action came with Gary’s set of lips pressing against Rob’s only for a couple of seconds before his tongue follows that same path. Gary’s body also gives to the impulse and by the time he realizes, he’s pressing Rob against the wall. Rob, who’s kissing him back without any kind of restriction, without a second guess. Fuck. _Without a care in the world._ Everything other than their lips and their bodies is absolutely irrelevant to Rob. And Gary understands. Lord, he does. His body’s feeling the same kind of buzzing energy he felt while watching Rob onstage, but ten times stronger.

And it’s not even the fact that Rob’s is a man. That factor should be weird, should be absolutely strange for what Gary is used to. But is not. Weirdness is the last thing on his mind, because every nerve in him is being altered by this man, by the power he seems to have in every end of Gary’s senses. And he likes it. Actually, Gary realizes, it _is_ about the fact that he is a man. He likes that. He likes how it feels, he likes how it makes him feel and, god, he likes the way Rob kisses. Like he’s desperate and determined at the same time, like he knows what he wants from Gary and knows exactly how to get it. Faithful to that cocky attitude, that’s the way he kisses Gary and Gary fucking likes it. He lets himself lose in it. In a kiss that ends up being wet, heated, open mouthed and with their tongues intertwined as if they were fighting each other over control. His entire body is reacting to it. Rob’s body is reacting as well. Gary can feel him, awake, pressing against his thighs. It’s everything but sweet. It’s the best kiss Gary’s ever had. And that it’s exactly what ends up waking him up.

“No, no, no, no!” Gary repeats retracting himself from Rob, breathless, hot and suddenly angry again. This is ridiculous, he thinks. This is the most pathetic thing he’s even done. It’s not about Rob being a man, not one bit. It’s about the fact that this is the bloke that made publicly a fool of Gary, who had his laugh about ridiculing Gary, who taunted him and provoked him and acted like an arrogant rockstar from the very beginning. And Gary? Gary fell right for it, didn’t he? He was mesmerized and attracted by all of this that, on paper, sounds more of a cliché than he’s ready to put up with. He is not letting himself do that. He is not going to be that kind of person. He is not going to—“Stop!” Gary growls when Rob moves that step forward close to him wearing again that domineering smile because, of course, now he knows. He knows that his character is working on Gary. But no. Gary won’t let it work anymore. “Fucking wanker,” Gary murmurs using the back of his hand to clean his lips, hopefully cleaning every trail of Rob’s wetness.

“I know, right?” is what Rob answers, audacious as ever “And you fucking love it” he finishes, licking his lips again. _Fuck_. Rob gives another step forward. So, of course, Gary takes a step back. Keeping the distance. He needs to. Because he doesn’t want to. He can’t shake this craving off, which makes him feels as feeble as ever. So, as a safe measure, Gary pushes Rob again. Hard. Making Rob’s back bump against the wall again. And, most importantly, away from him.

“Stay away from me you fucking twat” Gary demands and in an incredible demonstration of his willpower, he takes another step backwards and walks away. Ok, maybe he runs away. Maybe he _needs_ to run because the only thing he can think of is how much he wants to come back, grab Rob by that stupid t-shirt and kiss him senseless. Lord. He fell right into Rob’s fucking game, didn’t he? He walked right into it.

And the worst part, the absolutely worst part, Gary recognizes as he walks aimlessly away from that godforsaken bar (and he _has_ to recognize it to himself because it’s becoming physically impossible not to) is that… he is sure not only he liked it but he is absolutely certain he’ll be thinking about that kiss again. About those lips again. About that kind of heat again. About those noises that came out of that mouth while they gave him the best kiss he’s even had. Gary is damn sure Rob’s going to be messing with his mind again, even in his absence. Or especially in his absence.

Yeah. Gary’s thinks it’s time to call the Oxford University Press. He feels his picture should be right next to the word pathetic in the dictionary.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In my head Dale (Gary's roomate) looks like Ronan Keating. Don't ask.
> 
> This is my [Tumblr](http://marea707.tumblr.com/) (:  
> And if you're intested, I have a tag specially for this au [here](http://marea707.tumblr.com/tagged/rpg%3A-uni-au). Mostly visuals and relevant or inspiring stuff. There might be some spoilers, just fyi.


	2. Take Your Time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mark’s concerned, excited and on his own quest to gain his wings. Rob’s having problems letting go and Mark’s not helping. Gary doesn’t want to see Rob’s cocky attitude again but also wants to see him more than the acceptable amount, he thinks. There's an auditorium, a piano and more Wizard of Oz references than needed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one has a lot of Mark. It was absolutely necessary. And I adore writing Mark, so, yeah.  
> On that subject, I know my way of portraying Mark might seem a little different to a lot of people's vision of him but if you don't like it you can always blame it on this being an AU and all that (:  
> Also, there is a loo~t of dialogue in the first two parts of the chapter. It just seems to me that dialogues are such an important part of a story. So let me just warn you, these kind of things will keep happening.
> 
> Thanks to [Libby](https://elerinwen.tumblr.com) for being my beta and for being responsible for a huge chunk of this story, like I said in the first chapter's notes (:  
> Also, thank you so much for the nice comments and the kudos! Hope you enjoy this chapter as well. And please, keep them coming, even if there are parts you don't like or you have criticism, let me know! I can take it, I promise (:
> 
> Again, hope I'm not making this boring *runs into the wild*

That fucking blonde. This is why he hates blondes. Well, that’s not true. This is why he hates fucking blondes. Or _not_ fucking them. Alright, honestly, it has cero to do with the fact that he’s a blonde and a 100% to do with the fact that this blonde, _Gary_ , ran away and left Rob there all hot, high and fucking dry. He left Rob there, knowing he took everything a step too far and caring about it which is inexplicable because Rob usually doesn’t give a shit about being an ass. Not with people he doesn’t know. Or people he doesn’t care. He sort of has fun with it most of the times. And it’s not even close to the first time that being a bit of a dick cost him a piece of ass either. But Gary left him there, almost pleading for somewhere private or, whatever, semi-private to maybe suck his cock. Maybe have Gary suck his cock. Or something. _Anything_ more than that kiss. Because that damn kiss was brilliant. Was fucking electrifying and heavy and hot. That kiss was frustrating and, honest to fucking god, intense. Everything about it, from the tension to the passionate and desperate feel to it and even feeling the way Gary almost trembled pressed to his body while claiming things he didn’t have the right to claim with actual moans between his lips was fucking with Rob’s head. The image of Gary almost panting demanding Rob to keep his distance was fucking with his head. It really fucking was. Since the second Gary ran away.

Rob didn’t go back to the bar that night. He couldn’t think about going back there pretending everything was alright and hiding a huge boner. He was horny, a bit pissed and, honestly, a lot fucking frustrated. So he went back to the dorm he shares with Mark and drowned his horniness in that cheap bottle of vodka they had for emergencies, hidden between the canned goods. When he was good and drunk (not that he was 100% sober before, but still) he took a long shower, jerked off to the thought of that idiot in see-through shirt and ridiculous dress pants (seriously, who the fuck uses dress pants to go to a deadbeat bar?) and went to bed. Pointlessly because he couldn’t sleep. He kept relieving that kiss, over and over. The kiss, the idiot, the way he left and how mad he was at Rob and, most importantly, how Gary was just as altered as Rob was. Just as hard. Why would he even leave? They could’ve fucked all night. They could’ve done so many things and then never see each other again. It would’ve been great, only it wasn’t. And now Rob was left with this unresolved feeling he couldn’t shake out of. And, also, a secure boner every time his mind decided to go back to that kiss and that guy. And Rob couldn’t do anything about it, because he didn’t even know the guy. Wouldn’t know where to start looking for him. And he shouldn’t go looking for him either, because he knows he fucked up any chance he had. At first he just wanted to piss off Gary. Rob was trying to impress and fuck with him equally. Only in a way that would shake that presumptuous tone Gary had when they first chatted outside the Molly’s. But after that kiss, well. _Fuck_. After that kiss he wanted to do that again. And also wanted to fuck Gary in every fucking way and position he could think of. But he did take it too far. Somewhere in his mind, Rob knows it very well. And he shouldn’t care. He can easily find someone else, is not like he’s lacking resources in the sex partners department. Ultimately is Gary’s problem if he wants to pass on Rob, really. Only, he does care. And Rob hates that. Doesn’t know what the fuck to do with that.

The next morning he wakes up feeling anything but rested, with his dick painfully pressing against his shorts and with a monumental hangover, headache he’s sure is going to make his head explode any time now. Or melt. Or something. It takes him forever to get out of bed and when he does, he only wants to lay on the floor and rest a couple more hours. He manages to find the sofa and plumbs there using his forearm to hide his eyes from the day light entering through the windows. He’s sure he’s almost groaning out loud when he feels a little tap on his legs, one that is gentle but that feels like needles on his bare skin. He peeps with one eye behind his arm and realizes Mark closed the curtains a bit and is standing right next to the sofa; sweatpants on, a cup of coffee in one hand and a bowl of cereal in the other. Rob barely moves, only enough to make room for Mark on the couch. Mark places his bowl of cereal on the coffee table and hands Rob the cup of coffee, kissing him sweetly on his forehead. Mark’s always taking care of him. Rob might actually owe Mark an island for his birthday or something huge and expensive like that. A Ferrari, only Mark would hate that. Not that Mark _hates_ anything. He’s too sweet for hating, but Rob knows Mark doesn’t like sports cars. Or expensive cars either. But he might appreciate an Island, Rob thinks. Anyways, faithful to his wonderful ways, Mark’s there giving him a huge cup of black coffee and producing a couple of Tylenol pills for Rob to take.

 

Well. Mark’s looking incredibly good for how drunk he was last night. Not that surprises Rob, really. Mark is good when it comes to taking care of his own hangovers. Can’t hold his booze for shit, but his own hangovers, Mark has them under control. “It’s fucking unfair that you look so fresh” Rob basically groans and realizes he does need something liquid to soothe his throat because it’s so fucking dry it hurts. So he drinks, and Mark only smiles sympathetically at that.

“Not unfair, dear. I’ve told you, there’s no big secret to it.” He says in a really soft voice, smiling shyly while he plays a bit with the spoon in his cereal. He eats one full and then goes back to speaking. “Only loads and loads of water before bed, some ibuprofen and one or two orgasms before passing out will do the trick” he says naturally. As he should, because Rob knows this. They’ve been sharing a two bedroom dorm for more than two years and Mark’s been Rob’s best friend for a good part of those years. Besides, they are the kind of friends who share everything. From the shampoo to every detail about their day. The easy things about life and the tough shit each of them have been through in life. Rob loves that. Loves that he found someone he can trust so much. He never met anyone like Mark in his life, when he thinks about it.

“Jade?” Rob asks. The girl was trying to get into Mark’s pants all night last night. And Mark thought Jade was cute, so it seemed like an easy guess.

“She is a really lovely girl” Mark replies with a soft, thoughtful, sweet and honest smile. And that is something that Rob never really understood but learnt to accept about Mark. Because Jade is nothing special to Mark, Rob knows that. Hell, Rob’s sure even Jade herself knows that. But that doesn’t change the fact that Mark is smiling kindly with absolute honesty like Jade was someone he will remember having sex with and hold dear. Only he won’t. And maybe Rob’s a bit too cynical to grasp how that works in Mark’s head but he knows that Mark is absolutely transparent about it. He’s one of those people who fucks around even more than Rob does, considerably more, but he is always sweet about it. Not sweet about the sex per se (because Rob’s seen his leather, toys and handcuffs collection, heard enough stories from others and Mark himself to know that Mark can be fucking… _intense_ in bed) but about the situation itself. In the sense that he always finds a way to make everyone feel special when they are with him. Without bullshit or lies. Without playing a character and without trying too hard. It’s something that seem to come natural to Mark and he just plays it that way. Not because he feels obligated to, but because he wants to. Rob came to understand that, well— _that_ is part of who Mark is, really. It just marvels him how Mark manages to translate that so flawlessly when it comes to fucking and casual partners.

“Good for you, bro” Rob smiles and it hurts. Fuck. Even breathing hurts right now. “And good for her” he says trying to sound a bit conspirational and maybe flattering and he is fucking sure he didn’t succeed at that. His existence hurts too much. But also, he’s not feeling it right now. He’s sorry, but Rob couldn’t give more of a fuck about Mark’s sex life right now. Not when he’s still remembering the taste of Gary’s lips on his. With all that frustration still intact. Which fucking sucks.

Marks looks at him a bit puzzled while chewing another full spoon of cereal “Alright-y, what’s wrong?” Mark finally asks cheerful but invested. “You’re not pressing for details when you know she’s a gymnast… there must be something wrong.” Mark knows him so well. Rob’s not sure when it started happening but he always ends up being so easily read by Mark.

“Nothing to worry about, Marko” he assures him because. Well. Because. What is he going to say? This entire shit, is it something to worry about? Rob doesn’t think so. Or, well, he hopes that much.

“But there _is_ something.” Mark counters with his brows pretty much drawn together, clearly worried. But thankfully he doesn’t press. Or not right away. He goes for another chomp of froot loops. He rests his back against the back of the couch, his legs folded almost neatly under his weight. Only when he’s almost done with his breakfast bowl and Rob is still trying to pass down his own coffee, Mark speaks again.

“Where the hell were you last night?” he asks, casually. And Rob knows what Mark’s doing but he won’t comment on it. Maybe Rob wants to talk. Maybe Mark already knows that. “We looked for you everywhere after the set, thought you’d want to celebrate.” Mark says and it makes sense. They had a great set last night. The crowd was incredible. The energy was one of the best they’ve had all year and they were really looking forward to that gig because they rearranged the setlist order and they wanted to know if it would work. And it did. They should’ve celebrated, hard.

“That was my idea too” Rob admits, without a second guess and trying to have another sip of coffee.

“So?” Mark asks; more confusion than worry in his expression. Rob only looks at him like asking ‘So, what?’ eyebrows lifted. “Were you? Celebrating?” Mark finally asks. And it’s not that Mark’s being intrusive or any shit like that. Mark is wonderful and him and Rob always talk about their nights and what they did. This is absolutely normal for them, if it weren’t for the fact that Rob is not saying shit. Not like he would any other day, anyways. It’s just that… Rob doesn’t know _what_ to say. Or how to say it. Or where to start. What is he going to say? That he wanted to fuck someone and instead he fucked it up? Because, ultimately, that was it. Nothing more, nothing less. Simplistically put but yes, that was it.

“Not exactly” Rob admits; frustrated tone more obvious than what he would’ve liked.

Mark hums noncommittally and leaves his cereal bowl, now empty, on the coffee table. “Being uncommonly cryptic, are you today?” he says inquisitive. He throws a patient smile at Rob and shift a little on the sofa so he’s now facing directly at Rob, who’s still half sitting against the armrest of the couch. “I hope you know you’re not making me any less curious, sweetheart” he says in a warningly tone.

“I’m… just not sure there’s anything _to_ tell is all.” Or maybe there is; only Rob knows how it would sound.

“The blonde you were chatting outside the pub, right?” Mark guesses and he gets an impressed look from Rob in exchange. “Figure that little speech onstage was for him.” Mark explains and Rob shouldn’t be surprised. He knows he was fairly obvious. At least he knows he was obvious enough for Mark. And probably for Jay and Dougie too. He won’t ask, though. Suddenly, Mark’s face lights up and he starts talking the way he talks when he’s simply thinking out loud. More excited than he should, Rob reckons. “Is that who you were _not_ celebrating with? Why is he not here then? Did you—What did you do, Robbie?” He stops himself midsentence and changes his tone, like he just figured Rob must’ve done something wrong and that’s why Gary’s not here. And Rob should be offended at that, but he’s not. He figures his track record when it comes to being an ass serves Mark of enough excuse to assume.

Rob lets out a laugh, because it amuses him the way that any other day, Mark would be right. “Stop,” he says, still laughing and negates with his head. “Nothing happened,” and that is a fucking lie but he knows that Mark will know that Rob means that nothing _like what Mark’s thinking_ happened. Rob sits a little straighter on that couch now that the Tylenol is keeping up his part of this deal. He looks at Mark a little more serious now and a lot frustrated. “He called me twat.” He almost huffs in an indignant way but almost smiling fondly. Something that is not fucking acceptable, he thinks, so he stops himself immediately.

“Well, love,” Mark starts talking, pensive tone full force. He moves one of his hands and places it gently on Rob’s shin; “were you being a twat?” he finishes his question at that, squeezing sympathetically Rob’s leg.

“No.” Rob says automatically, almost defensive-like and realizes that’s the stupidest thing he could do when it comes to Mark so he immediately relaxes his tone and sighs. “Yes—probably” Rob admits.

Suddenly, Mark looks impressed. “So he called you on it and you didn’t tell him to fuck off?” he asks explaining the obvious expression in his face and then smiles, like he knows a secret and he may let Rob in it. “You fancy him” is what he says.

“I would very much like to fuck his brains out, yes” Rob corrects. Because that is the extent of it. That is what explains everything. He wanted to fuck Gary and the dude ran away.

“You fancy him?” Mark repeats, not really asking with the same kind and perspicacious tone.

“I don’t know the guy, alright? Must you always be this cheesy?” Rob scolds him because, really, Mark’s being incredibly and unnecessarily _romantic_ at the fact that Rob wanted to fuck an English dude but couldn’t.

“That is not what I asked, my dear” Mark says like, again, he knows something that Rob doesn’t and it’s starting to get a bit under Rob’s skin. There’s no need for this, really. Things are simple and he might think that Gary is interesting, but Rob knows that the interest will disappear the moment he gets to fuck him. That’s how it goes. He just wants to see Gary’s face when he comes, his lips sucking Rob’s cock, he wants to fuck Gary sideways and then be done with it. Not see him again. That’s the way Rob works and that’s the only possibility in his mind. He knows better than to want otherwise.

So, “I’ll probably never see him again, so you should let it go” is what he says, letting Mark know very pointedly that he’s done with this conversation.

“Alright, will do. For now anyways” Mark says smiling unaffected by Rob’s tone. Ugh, Rob hates it when Mark does that. Only he _can’t_ actually hate a thing Mark does, because Mark is such a fucking lovely person. It’s abso-fucking-lutely annoying, Rob thinks. Mark gets up of the sofa and grabs his bowl before turning back to face Rob. “Gotta go take a shower anyways. I have study group in… less than half an hour, shit” says looking at their clock on the wall.

“Why are you showering for your study group?” Rob asks, trying to forget about the conversation they just had.

“Because I smell like smoke, weed and hangover?” Mark answers, simply “Also, because one of my group partners is Harry” and now he’s smiling with that mischievous grin that usually means only _one_ thing.

“The guy from the bakery down the street? Didn’t you already fuck him?” Rob thinks out loud and looks a little puzzled. Mark is not exactly known for repeating himself, if you will.

“We had a bit of fun together, yes” He corrects Rob, like saying simply that he had Harry fuck him is not accurate because it sounds vulgar and, well, Mark doesn’t do _vulgar_ “Wouldn’t mind going for seconds, Rob. Remember what I told you about that thing he did with his tongue and two fingers? I need him to teach me how to do that.” He says with a profound serious, almost businesslike tone.

“But of course, learning is very important after all” Rob says in the exact same tone, giving a hint of a smile.

“Learning is everything, really. You know me.” Mark agrees never losing that mood and now smiles with his entire face, eyes letting out almost childlike excitement and Rob can’t help but laugh.

“Such an eager boy” Rob encourages; half still laughing, half kinky expression winning over his face.

“I’m in college after all! I’m here to learn, aren’t I?” Mark finishes, grinning satisfied and starts walking towards the kitchen to leave the bowl but mid-walk he turns around to look at Rob once more “And Rob… don’t worry about that British boy, yes? I have a feeling you’ll be seeing him again soon” he says with that tone again, the one he uses when he’s hiding something or when he thinks he knows something the rest of the world doesn’t. And Rob doesn’t want that. He doesn’t want to listen to his best friend sounding like they are in a romantic fucking comedy.

Rob squints faking annoyance, only to get his point across. “Go!” he demands and Mark disappears into he kitchen without another word but a smile still. He needs for Mark to let this go. That’s the only way he’ll be able to let it go himself. He lost a possible fuck, that’s all there is to it and Rob can deal with that. _With that_ , yes. With that he can deal.

**

It’s been four days. Four entire days and Rob can’t stop thinking about that lay that didn’t get to be a lay. He can’t stop thinking about that perfect out-of-place looking English boy he still, really, _really_ wants to fuck. He can’t stop thinking about that see-through shirt and how much he wants to know if what was behind it is as fucking hot as what little that thin layer of fabric revealed. Can’t stop thinking about those delicate hands and how fucking good they’d look around his cock. He can’t stop thinking how well those unnecessarily elegant pants fitted that guy or the way they accentuated his ass. At times he even feels regret for not taking more time to look at that ass, maybe now he could have more material when he thinks about Gary. Not that he needs it, though. Because he’s suffering enough with what he does remember. Rob remembers the taste of those lips vividly. Sweet and something bitter that might’ve been whiskey, he even remembers the taste of cigarette in that mix. Rob remembers the way those lips kissed him, almost fucking violently, desperate. Just as desperate as Rob felt. He remembers the length of Gary’s body pressing him against the wall and those ridiculously involuntary moans that came out of Gary’s mouth sending electricity to Rob’s entire body. He remembers Gary’s face, fucked up, pissed off, with those lips red and wet thank to his _-Rob’s-_ saliva. Everything works like fucking fuel for Rob and it’s becoming fucking exhausting. _Because_ , well. It’s not only that. It’s not only the physical part of it. It’s also the fact that he remembers Gary’s smile and his fidgety eyebrows. He remembers what instruments Gary plays. He remembers that he understood the Wizard of Oz reference and used it, like he _really_ got it. That Gary called him a wizard and those deep bright eyes when he did. And that, yes. He kinda fucking loves that Gary told him to fuck off when he acted like a dick.

So, all of that? All that together is driving him fucking crazy. He’s not used to this and he knows is fucking _problematic_. That’s the word. When it comes to himself and feelings that’s _always_ the word. He can’t fucking remember a time when someone got so much under his skin. Can’t remember a fucking time when getting someone out of his head was so fucking difficult. And at this point, after four days, he wants to do something. Anything. Only, he can’t. And he shouldn’t. Not with the kind of past he has. Not with his kind of present either. He knows himself enough, been through enough shit to know that if this fucking Brit got to him this much, the only thing Rob should be doing right now is running away, forgetting him.

But is not an _actual_ problem either, right? He has no idea where Gary is or where he lives. Yale is a big fucking school, the chances of ever seeing him again are… well, very fucking slim. And that should calm him down. Only it doesn’t. Still, it doesn’t change reality. He can’t do anything about it. So that’s that. _That’s that._

What he can (and does) do instead is fuck around. He takes all that frustration, all those boners and uses them. Oh, he uses them alright. The first day he fucks that annoying freshman who’s been trying to catch his attention since the first day he saw Midnight Riot live at that stupid homecoming party some fraternity threw in their backyard. Rob fucks him and all he thinks about is Gary. His perfume, his eyes, his mouth. That same night, he goes out with the boys. He ends up in a bathroom stall with a ginger with huge boobs he can’t even stand to look at while she’s sucking him off. Because he’s too busy keeping his eye shut and thinking is Gary’s tongue the one that’s doing all those things to his cock. The second day he fucks one of his economics professor’s PA and only from behind, because that way is easier to pretend that ass belongs to the one blonde he actually wants to fuck. And the faces were as anonymous the third day. And when the fuck did his sex life become such a sad thing?

Well. He knows when. He knows fucking well. What he doesn’t know is… _why the fuck._

And fuck if Rob wasn’t considering the fact that he was losing his mind. Maybe he built up this dude in his head. Maybe it was just the fact that Gary frustrated him. Maybe it was that it pissed him off that Gary left just like that, like he wasn’t affected by all that fucking want Rob could clearly see in Gary’s eyes and in the way his dick was clearly pressing against his pants. Maybe it was the fact that he didn’t cave like most of them would. Or most of them do.

Yes, Rob definitely built Gary up in his head, didn’t he? That was it. That had to be it.

So the fourth day, Rob decides to skip class. Just because he could. He needs a couple more hours of rest and he was acing most of his classes. Rob wasn’t lying when he said he was good with numbers and everything related to them. He really is a fucking god when it comes to that. Only way he’s been passing with flying colors most of the classes he’s been at since he started school, because is not like he puts that much effort into it. Not like a lot of his classmates anyways. It comes easy to him. Even though he hates most of the subjects, despises his career choice. Well, not _his_ career choice anyways, but whatever. ‘ _Thanks mom and dad’_ he thinks with profound sarcasm. Anyways. Point being, he’s good. So now, he can sleep until late on a Thursday. He forgets about getting out of his dorm, he takes a long shower and then goes straight back to bed.

Bad Brain’s new album, ‘Rise’, is blasting violently on the stereo he has on the floor of his messy room and that’s why he doesn’t listen the door when it opens. Not that he cares, really. He knows is one of the boys. Sometimes when it comes to them, there is no privacy and sometimes Rob likes it that way. Other times, well, he doesn’t. It’s more often that he does, though, so he usually forgets about times like these when all he wants to do is sink into the darkness of one of the best fucking hardcore punk records ever made and forget about his fucking life for the length of the 11 songs. But he’s not sleeping anymore, not really. Rob was just enjoying the darkness of Joseph’s vocals; seeing if that somehow clears his fucking mind, so he has no excuse. And for a while it was ok. For a while it did. But then the volume is being turned down and he feels a movement on his mattress. He opens his eyes and sees a bright smile that he knows by heart now.

“I have an early Christmas present for you” Mark says cheerfully. “Or a really late birthday present, you choose.”

“I should be excited… but with you looking at me like that I don’t know if I’m that or a little scared.” Because, honestly, he looks happy but also way too excited for this early in the morning. Or, wait, forget that. According to his bedside clock is almost noon. He must’ve dozed off after all without even realizing it.

“Oh, don’t be mean,” Mark scolds him, shifts a little over the bed and now he’s sitting in a neatly lotus position facing Rob who’s still laying under the sheets. “You should be absolutely excited!”

“Well?” Rob asks, trying to be patient. It’s Mark, he reminds himself. Mark always deserves one’s patience. Doesn’t matter if he’s interrupting Rob’s precious moping time. Or dealing time. Whatever. Especially if he looks _this_ jazzed.

“I’ve been asking around a bit…” He starts and stops, like he has to remind himself to calm down. Sometimes he does that. When he does, Rob knows that this is something important for Mark so he simply shuts up and listens. “Started with the people I know were at the Jolly Molly the other night and there was no luck there. Either most of them were intoxicated or had no idea what I was talking about…” he explains.

“Sort of like me now.” Rob looks at him plane confused. No idea where this is going.

“Listen to me!” Mark scolds him again and this is the second time in only 20 seconds so this must be _really_ important. “As I was saying, no luck with the Molly’s crowd _but_ I asked Darren at the bar and he said that he remembered the blonde English boy. He said he remembered him because he looked kinda snobbish and wasn’t happy at all with the whiskey they served him. Which, I tried explaining him that first, that whiskey _is_ rubbish and second, he’s not snobbish, it probably is the accent, it always is” and Mark’s gesturing a lot, but Rob can’t pay attention to that, because Mark is talking about Gary. He’s been asking around about Gary? Gary. Ok. Rob’s attention is fully on this now.

“Marko---“ Robs hurries him because he knows Mark’s about to go off at a tangent. He does that as well sometimes. And right now, when he’s talking about Rob’s rapidly increasing and not-so-healthy obsession, well… Rob can’t just let Mark do that like he would any other day.

“Right” and it seems like Mark agrees with Rob because he goes immediately back to his original story. “Darren said he remembered the lad was there with two mates when he ordered his first drink and one of them is a boy I don’t know but Darren said he goes to church with his sister? Or to bible study group? Or… I’m sorry, I don’t mean to be bad but it was something funny and sort of ridiculous like that.” Mark looks honestly regretful about his choice of words but Rob can’t stop to care about that. He simply moves his hand dismissively like he’s telling Mark not to worry about that. Just wanting Mark to go on. “The thing is, Darren told me he’d ask his sister and so he did and apparently he’s this church-goer roommate.” He explains, eyebrows hoisted because it really is a fucking big coincidence, Rob recognizes. Not that he cares. He just needs Mark to go on with the fucking story. “Long story long, I don’t know exactly where he lives but I know in what building and… I might’ve been wandering around that particular liberal arts dorms building and I also might’ve been asking a bit around about Gary” he says serene, like this is not the big punch of the story. Like there’s more.

“You didn’t…” Rob is honestly having a hard time believing this. Then again, of course Mark did this. _Of course_. The problem is… Rob doesn’t know if he’s excited or wants to yell at Mark for this. He was planning on letting this go. At some point in the future, he was gonna let this go. Eventually. He was.

“Oh, but I did” he says with an almost proud look on his face. “And you should thank me” he assures and Rob raises one eyebrow but says nothing. “That is, if you wanna know what I found out” Mark finishes and at that, Rob knows Mark is only trying to harvest Rob’s interest. If he only knew there was no fucking need for that. Then again, Mark probably knows and wants Rob to face it himself. Face the fact that he really fucking wants to know this. Fuck that letting-it-go plan.

“Yes.” Rob says, sounding more desperate that he’d want to sound. “Yes.” he repeats, calmer. “Please.” he asks as patient as he can. Which, granted, is not a lot.

“Great!” Mark cheers clapping a bit and almost skipping on his ass on the mattress. Rob honestly thinks his best friend is ridiculously cliché sometimes. “Well, truth is there is not much information. Apparently Gary’s very reserved person, for what most people say. He’s also been here only for three weeks so maybe it’s just that,” Mark says almost thinking out loud and then continues; “but I did find out he’s been going to the auditoriums for the past two weeks after second period when there’s no classes scheduled so he can use the piano.”

“Marko… you are the most ridiculous person I’ve ever met” Rob lets out in a fucking sigh. One that comes with relief and that catches Rob by surprise. He feels lighter somehow. He might have the chance for a do over. Maybe he can get this out of his fucking system once and for all.

“I hope that’s a good thing” Mark pouts but a little curve on his lips is betraying his theatrical ways.

“You know it is, freak.” Rob smiles and moves on the bed to hug him, making Mark lay on the bed with him.

“It takes one to know one” Mark taunts but hugs Rob back, laughing against Rob’s neck. He moves his face a little so he’s looking at Rob’s face now “So… you’ll go find him, right?” He asks like he needs to be sure. Like this is important.

“Why are you so interested in me getting laid?” Rob asks eyebrows drawn together because… he’s really curious at that.

“I know you” Mark smiles calmly. Honestly and satisfied.

“What does that mean?” Rob asks almost demanding but with a smile he can’t quite suppress.

“I know you, my dear Robbie.” Mark repeats in the smoothest tone, smile still intact and he looks at Rob like he knows something he’s not willing to tell Rob. Like this little secret he’s keeping to himself. And Rob understands that. But he doesn’t question it. Somehow he prefers for Mark to keep that secret. Somehow, Rob thinks, that secret might ruin all the excitement he was suddenly trying not to question.

**

Gary never thought it would be actually easy. Letting it go. The kiss. Or not only the kiss but everything that came attached to it that night. He never thought it would be easy to let go of his first kiss with a man, for starters. Or the fact that he liked it as much as he did. That he _felt_ the way he did. Kissing girls when he was younger was easier, especially when he was drowning in teenage want, hormones and what not. Then he got older in it was the same. Girls, for him, were easy. Being with them was easy. It’s what was expected, he guesses. Convenient. The curiosity he felt when it came to boys was something he never entertained because he was _used_ to girls since his first kiss. Not because he was trying not to like boys either. It’s just… the truth is, he never thought of himself as a very sexual person. He never thought that sex was so important. He always thought that people made a big deal out of it, making it look like it was something more interesting and exciting than what is was in reality. And now, after that damn kiss and that insufferable man, he realized that wasn’t the case at all. There was more to it. _Definitely_ more to it. Because what Gary felt when Rob kissed him, when he kissed him back, is something he never in his entire life felt before. He never quite enjoyed a kiss that much. God, he never had a hard on so easily in his life. Never one so painfully obvious. Never one that he wanted to give into so damn bad. Never in a million years he thought snogging someone would make him feel like he was flying and on the verse of falling into oblivion at the same time.

That’s why he can’t just let go.

And because he’s furious at himself for it. Not the liking-men part. That scares him a bit but thinks he is dealing with it quite well, honestly. Maybe it is because he always liked boys, in a way, and now he’s just realizing it was kind of a missing piece of the puzzle that is him inside. But that’s not really the hard part. What is making him want to knock his head hard against a concrete wall is the fact that is _this_ bloke and _this_ kiss. This smug idiot who mocked him, called him names, acted like a proper self-centered asshole and kissed him like he had any fucking right to do so. That managed to turn his insides upside down with a heated kiss and a charming grin. The one that was mean to him and also so passionate that every time Gary remembers him, he wants to yell. And he’s not a yeller. He’s not the kind of man who throws tantrums but every time he thinks about Rob and about that kiss he wants to do exactly that. Because it can’t be like this. He can’t be obsessing over a kiss that lasted only a couple of minutes. A kiss that the most annoying person he’s met in this campus gave him.

But… that kiss showed him a kind of passion he never felt, never even thought he could feel.

And also, he can’t forget the idiot onstage. Not because he was fire. Or not _only_ that. What he can’t forget is the authenticity he felt, can’t forget how good he was, can’t forget how much it felt like he wasn’t pretending, that even in his frontman’s high horse he looked like a positively transparent version of himself. A version he’d like to know. Not the arse who he then shared a sweaty, heated and perfect kiss with.

Gary felt that there was something more to Rob. That’s the thing. And, probably, he hated himself even more for that because it didn’t escape him the cliché sound of it. He felt like he saw _more_ in Rob. When, in reality, the real Rob –not the performer- showed him he was an absolute pain in the back area.

 

But it’s Thursday past his second class of the day and that means, just like yesterday and the day before, that he has one of the small auditoriums all for himself until one of the late classes come in. Which also means that, for a while, he can forget about Rob. Forget about thinking and about that kiss. And he can do it in his favorite way. With music. With a piano. Only Gary and his piano.

Which is not correct, because it’s not _his_ piano. Just an old and very well preserved piano in one of Yale’s auditoriums. But for two and a half hours it is his and it’s more than what Gary has back in his dorm, his white Yamaha being back home in England.

So Gary plays the piano almost every day. Is not always the same piano because he has to check which room is empty with no courses going on, but pretty much every day he’s back in the music wing of the building with his hands pressing the black and white keys. And he loves it. Loves music and loves playing it. God, he loves performing too, even if there is no audience. Nothing soothes him more than playing the piano. What is different about this Thursday is that he’s writing. Same as yesterday. And the day before. He’s been working on a song since Monday. Actually composing. And he hasn’t done that since he got here, to the States. He’s been lacking proper inspiration but he has it now. Not that he wants to think about that. He doesn’t want to think about what is suddenly inspiring him but that’s only because he knows the answer to that, he thinks. Deep, deep down inside, he knows.

Well, apparently he is thinking. Only now those thoughts are serving as fuel for playing and writing instead of drowning him, so he decides to let that go. At least for a while.

For a good part of two hours he sits there, with one of his notebooks at reach distance to write down musical notes and little snippets of lyrics he’s taunting with. Not entirely sure what he’s actually drafting, although he’s half certain that he has the chorus for the song well defined already. The problem is that he knows who’s inspiring this and Gary refuses to think about _him_ in any kind of romantic way. And this is what this melody is, clearly. The lyrics he has in mind are romantic. And this bloke, this insufferable boy who refuses to leave his thoughts, won’t be the muse of any sort of amorous song. Gary already feels pathetic as it is. No need to indulge his capricious mind and make this worse.

Is the third time he goes for his notebook in less than ten minutes, frustratingly rearranging notes and going against his own head. Only then he listens to a noise coming from the back of the auditorium. It’s just a screech coming from an old chair. He wouldn’t even think about it if it weren’t for the fact that he’s supposed to be alone in the room. So he immediately looks in the direction of the noise, thinking that maybe someone’s early for class. But is not a stranger who he sees. Actually _it is_ a stranger, Gary thinks. Only this is a stranger he recognizes.

Rob. Gary tries going back to the keys of the old piano, but can’t concentrate enough to play anything. He tries ignoring Rob’s presence but can’t, really. Was Rob looking for him? What could he want now? How did he find him here? Is it a coincidence? Alright, Gary stops himself right there because he can’t be this self-absorbed. Why would Rob be interested in Gary that much? Gary’s aware that he’s having problems letting go but he’s sure that Rob has far too much experience when it comes to kissing random strangers (right? That cocky attitude has to come with something like that attached to it) to be suffering the same stupid breakdown Gary’s suffering. But… what on earth is Rob doing here then? Did he just come here to maybe play too? Maybe he had the same idea Gary had?

Gary drags his hands across the keys one last time and then closes the piano, determined, grabbing his notebook with the other hand. “I guess I’m done here” he says in an exasperated tone he doesn’t even try to conceal. He hates letting Rob see how much his presence bothers him, wishes he could just ignore him. But he can’t.

“No” Rob exclaims and it sounds almost as if he’s begging. Does he want to listen to Gary play? Why would he even think Gary wants to do that for him? Only Gary does, but Rob doesn’t need to know that, even less assume it. “Please, just… ignore me.” And Rob sounds honest, he’s gesturing his hands as if he wants to tell Gary that he can continue, that he doesn’t need to acknowledge his presence. Oh, someone can ignore the _rockstar_ , imagine that. Gary is not impressed. “I won’t make a sound, man” Rob promises and at that, Gary raises his eyebrows.

“Somehow I find that hard to believe” he murmurs skeptically and loud enough for Rob to hear him and goes back to sitting, opening the piano and putting his notebook away. He hears a quiet laugh coming from Rob. A sort of ‘I deserved that’ without actually saying the words and to that Gary can’t help but smile. An honest smile he immediately represses.

For a couple of seconds he doesn’t play. He stays there looking at those keys wondering how long has Rob been sitting there, listening, looking, and paying attention. He also wonders why would he even do that. And more importantly he’s trying to calm his pulse because his hands are sweaty. Gary’s not exactly nervous but… well, he’s somehow excited. This bloke who blew him away with his brilliance onstage now wants to listen to Gary play and Gary wants to show him that he can be good as well. Maybe not the same kind of good that Rob is but he wants to find his own way of impressing him. Yes, he wants to impress Rob. And that thought it frightening. And stupid. And pathetic. He should start thinking about tattooing that word somewhere in his forehead.

Gary finally starts playing. Little notes at first, a bit unsure because he’s still trying to find his center. He closes his eyes for a second and lets the song rush through his fingers. He knew what song he’d play the second he sat back down on that chair. It’s perfect; it’s a song Gary loves since the first time he listened to it. It’s a song that’s everything that Rob is not. At least not the Rob he met that night at that horrible pub’s front door. That night Rob dedicated the Ramones’ song to him. And now, Gary is doing Elton John’s ‘Sorry Seems To Be The Hardest Word’ and is absolutely on purpose that he picks that song and no other. Not because is one he knows how to play perfectly or because is one he played over a million times. But because he thinks Rob owes him an apology. And because Elton always finds a way to make Gary spill his soul when he plays him.

And Gary does. He goes for broke. Not in a flashy, crude and in-your-face way. Not the way Rob did with his performance. Gary does it in the only way he knows, dropping everything he has inside in the form of a beautiful ballad. He sings from his heart, he plays from his soul. His eyes barely open during the performance and he doesn’t even think about the fact that he’s asking ‘ _what do I do to make you want me?’_ , because he’s not. This is only a song. A melody. A performance. Not a confession. Not a plea.

Definitely not a confession.

And when he’s done, he keeps staring at his hands for a couple of seconds. Because suddenly it feels a lot heavier than what is was supposed to and he’s wishing in silence that Rob didn’t feel that. That he doesn’t realize the effect his eyes and attention have on Gary. Only when he feels he’s collected enough, his eyes are back on Rob. And he wants to glare. Almost wants to look at him with the same smug demeanor Rob’s dedicated to him in the past. But he can’t. Because when he looks at Rob he notices that every little rough edge in his face, every single thing he saw that night that made Rob’s expression look cocky an distant is gone now. Rob’s looking at him with big eyes, almost glassy, his chin resting at the back of his hand while the back of the chair in front of him serves of support for that arm. He’s looking at Gary with wonder. Like he’s impressed. Like he’s moved. Like something Gary did touched him in a way he was not prepared for. He looks… _vulnerable_. That’s the word he’s looking for, Gary reckons. Something he never though he’d see in Rob, even if he wished for it.

“Well, you kept your promise, wizard.” Gary says in a taunting but amicable tone, one he didn’t even plan. Much like Rob’s reaction to his song.

“I didn’t even have to try.” Rob answers, still not moving from his chair and his position, still looking like he’s wowed. His eyes go to his hands and suddenly he’s not looking at Gary anymore but a shy smile is taking over his face. Rob clears his throat and shakes his head. “That was… well, fuck me.” He laughs and looks up at Gary again. “You’re good, Dorothy dear.” Rob jokes, like his trying to go back. To that night, that Wizard of Oz analogy, to that priggish attitude he sure lost now.

“Oh, please don’t—” Gary stops him. He doesn’t want that Rob back, but he can’t say that, can he? “Don’t call me Dorothy again” he says instead. Like he really cares about that now. Of course he could still be mad about that. Maybe he is a bit still. But right now he's more interested in the fact that Rob seems too shaken up to put the walls back up.

“You really didn’t like that, did you?” Rob teases but still smiles with honesty.

“No, smug face, I didn’t” Gary counters with a small taunting smile on his lips. He shakes his head and walks away from the piano and off stage, finding his way through the chairs to sit in the one next to Rob’s. For a minute Gary doesn’t say a word, the silence of the auditorium suddenly too loud. He sighs and sees Rob in the corner of his eyes, looking at him. “I reckon you’re a big Elton fan?” Gary asks and can’t help but turn his head to take a full look at Rob’s face. Can’t help but notice how gorgeous he looks under the white light of the room. Even more attractive than what Gary remembered from that night under the dim lights of the streets or the flashy ones of the stage. His eyes are so deep, so bright. His thin lips so defined. Gary can’t help but wonder how they taste now. Even though he knows he shouldn’t, can help but ask himself what they taste like without the strong alcohol and smoke scent he felt the other night.

“My granny was.” Rob answers with something that sounds like nostalgia in his tone. “She used to play for me when--” he suddenly stops talking, looking away from Gary and shaking his head again.

“When?” Gary encourages him to finish that sentence. He feels curious enough to try and understand where that nostalgia comes from. What is it about Elton and his grandmother that made this vulnerable version of this cocky rockstar come out?

“Never mind” he says firmly, still looking away. “Just… ignore the man behind the curtain” he jokes but doesn’t laugh. Gary worries his eyebrows at that request and can’t help but feel a bit disappointed.

“Back to Oz, are we?” Gary wonders, not really asking a question. He understands what Rob’s trying to tell him, Gary thinks. Something is making Rob show him a part of himself he wants to keep hidden behind the curtains, much like the wizard. Maybe he’s trying to say that the man that hides is not nearly as interesting or fascinating as the character he was playing the other night. Maybe something else. Or maybe Gary is reading too much into it. Letting his imagination and wishes take the best of him.

“Isn’t it more fun? To give into the fantasy or whatever.” Rob says trying to sound nonchalant but not quite achieving it. Gary hums like he’s thinking about it and presses his lips together. Of course he knows the answer to that. It’s all he’s been thinking about every time he considered that Rob might have something _more_ to show behind that arsehole attitude, smug smile and mischievous eyes. But he’s trying to act aloof. Not to show that he’s been obsessed with this man for a good part of a week.

“Well, I’m afraid I can’t do that now.” Gary finally answers after a long pause. He sighs in a small laugh and looks straight at Rob who’s now looking at him like he didn’t expect that answer. “I’m starting to think that what hides behind the curtain is something far more interesting that what’s at display.” Gary assures him with a soft and controlled tone. He doesn’t want to sound gullible but he can’t quite pretend that he wants to let this go either. Doesn’t want for Rob to go back to the character. Doesn’t want any masks on his face. Not now that he’s seen the little tip of what might as well be a big iceberg hiding behind, well, that _curtain_.

“So,” Gary starts, sitting a bit straighter on his chair and looking at Rob with a soft smile and curious brows “do you drink coffee?” he asks with a plan in his mind.

“I thought you wanted me to stay away from you.” Rob reminds him and Gary huffs playfully.

“I did. Maybe I still do?” Gary admits. And he knows he should honestly think about that. About the Rob he met before and how much he angered him. Should think about how small that Rob made him feel and how this could easily be the stupidest thing he’s ever done. Giving into this… _thing_ , this idea, that there’s more to Rob. That there really is something worthy behind that damn curtain. This _theory_ that not only two hours ago he thought was the most pathetic thing he’s ever felt.

“You need to make up your mind, buddy.” Rob tries to scold him but it sounds playful and even a bit unsure, something that he’s never heard Rob sound like before.

“I’ll figure it out.” Gary promises. Or wishes, maybe. “In my defense, you were a complete twat the other night. You know you were.” He accuses him, lifting and eyebrow but smiling faintly.

“Fair enough.” Rob accepts and nods slightly, giving him the first smile that doesn’t seem to fade away when Gary stares at it.

“Right” Gary finally says, because the silence between them started to feel too thick again and the thought of kissing that smile too present to attempt to ignore it in the middle of that silence. “Tomorrow then?” Gary proposes. “You’ll let me buy you a cup of coffee?” he finishes, more hopefully that he would’ve liked to sound.

“Ok… I can deal with that.” Rob assures him sounding everything but sure.

“Around this time, yes? I’ll meet you here.” Gary says not really asking and getting up of his chair. He goes back to the piano and grabs his notebook, leaving the auditorium before he can say another word to Rob but giving him a last smile. He leaves without asking Rob what he’s doing here, if he was looking for him, if he knows that Gary comes here almost every day or if this was a mere coincidence. He leaves before he can think about what he’s doing. Before thinking at all. He’s afraid he’ll realize this is a mistake. But most of all he leaves before Rob backs out of the coffee date.

Until tomorrow, then.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [This](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qFCzH86R9sM) is the album Rob’s listening to. The band is Bad Brains and they are hardcore punk legends. I fucking love that album. Libby chose the band Rob would be listening and it fits perfectly with the mood Rob’s at. Plus, he’s a bit of a punk in this verse and we’re not even sorry (:  
>  Also, the chapter's title is from one of the songs on this album.
> 
> This is my [Tumblr](http://marea707.tumblr.com/) (:  
> And if you're intested, I have a tag specially for this au [here](http://marea707.tumblr.com/tagged/rpg%3A-uni-au). Mostly visuals and relevant or inspiring stuff. There might be some spoilers, just fyi.


	3. I Figured It Out From Black and White

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jay's a very intuitive individual, or so he thinks he is. He's only being a smartass, if you ask Rob. And then there's coffee. Or the intention of coffee is there, honestly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry it took me so long to post this. With traveling for the holidays and my birthday weekend I had little to no time to sit down and write. Anyways, here it is, chapter 3. Hopefully you are still interested in the story (:
> 
> Thank you [Libby](http://elerinwen.tumblr.com/) again for being my beta and the co-creator of this story, as always ♥
> 
> Title from "You & I" by One Direction, because I couldn't help myself. It was too perfect in a way.
> 
> Once more, if you have comments, kudos, questions or even criticism, I welcome them all very much! Please!
> 
> I just want you to enjoy this as much as I'm enjoying writing it *hides*

It was a really, really bad idea. The worst fucking idea. Listening to Mark when he’s trying so fucking hard to be a cherub sort of cupid with all this shit. Like Rob needs that. Like Rob can afford something like that. Fuck, like Rob would ever actually want to go through all that. It was the worst idea. Really fucking was. Even if he tried to ignore those amused eyes and huge smile Mark gave him when he saw Rob getting dressed to go to that fucking auditorium last Thursday. Even after Rob told him over and over that the only thing he was going to do was meet Gary and fuck him, possibly, in that same auditorium. Because he only planned on fucking Gary, really. That was the deal he made with himself. He would find this ridiculously gorgeous and fucking hot dude that startled him and rejected him and he would find a way to make him suck his cock and probably fuck him and that would be fucking it. Rob would get Gary out of his system and that would be it. A do-over. A chance to make Gary change his mind so he wouldn’t run away again, that was the idea. A simple, clean and also hopefully dirty fuck with the most innocent looking man he met in a long time. Who also kissed him like a dirty fucker, but that’s beside the point. Or right down to the point, whatever. Point was, it was all supposed to be a fuck.

But now. Now. Now, he has a date. Or a Coffee Date, capital letters. Same fucking thing. Rob doesn’t date. It’s a thing he just doesn’t do and he knows that maybe he’s fucking thinking about this way too much. Gary only invited him for a cup of coffee, nothing more than that. Yes, he said that he wanted to take a look at the guy hiding behind the curtain, like he figured Rob out so fucking quickly that Rob should be running to the woods right now. But ultimately, he only invited Rob for a cup of coffee and that should be it. Only. Of fucking course it’s not. Because Rob knows that _this_ … well, this thing he’s doing is all kinds of wrong.

He figured Gary would punch him after how mad he was the night at the Molly’s. He figured either Gary would punch him or tell him to go fuck himself. Or, if he was feeling more positive, Rob thought maybe Gary would have time to think about things and he would give into that throbbing erection Gary had in his pants while he was kissing Rob. But he didn’t see _this_ coming. Mainly because Rob doesn’t understand _why_ the fuck would Gary want to take him out for coffee after everything that happened. Why would Gary want to take him out for what could very much be an innocent coffee, considering they kissed like they hated each other and like they wanted desperately to get into each other’s pants all in the same kiss. Or even after Rob made a point of making a joke out of dedicating Gary a song. It made no sense. That’s why Rob didn’t see _this_ coming. Why he just… wasn’t fucking prepared when Gary asked.

He’s overthinking this shit like there’s no tomorrow. He knows. Doesn’t mean he can stop. And that’s also new. _An innocent cup of coffee._ Yes. But.

There’s no way in hell that this is _just_ a cup of coffee. Not after that kiss. Not after Gary was fucking hard for Rob, for fucks sakes. But also, Rob has no idea what the fuck this is then. Because Gary ordered Rob to stay the fuck away from him and he didn’t look exactly fucking pleased when he noticed Rob sitting in that fucking squeaky chair in that fucking auditorium. But something changed his entire attitude. Something after that song. Something he saw in Rob made him change his mind. And that? _That_ is what should make him stay the fuck away from Gary for real and for good. Because that song touched something in Rob he didn’t even know was possible to touch at this point. Or he did, but he didn’t know anyone other than his grandma could. And Rob buried that part of him, alright? He buried it a lot of years ago; he buried it deep, deep down. In a place no one could find it. Or so he thought. It was not the same thing, of course it wasn’t. But there was something about Gary’s beautiful and skilled hands playing that piano. Playing one of the songs his grandma used to play to a very young, complete and naïve version of Rob that got to him. That made him feel a kind of warm he wouldn’t allow himself to feel. A kind of peace that he knew he shouldn’t allow himself to feel. Gary was good. Someone who played and sang that way, who made him feel that way, who looked at him that way and managed to fucking read him so quickly was, probably, way too fucking good for someone like Rob. And also, very fucking unhealthy. Dangerous, even.

The thing is… Rob doesn’t want people to figure him out, not really. He has his best friends for that. And even they don’t have him entirely figured out, except for Mark because Mark is fucking magic sometimes. But he doesn’t need ridiculously good looking and talented English boys figuring him out. Nope. He really doesn’t. He’s fine with his walls. With his character. He’s fine being _the wizard_ , like Gary so eloquently put it. He needs all those things. It’s how he fucking lives without any fucking trouble. Unless when he’s looking for troubles but that mainly includes bar fights, a lot of fucking booze and some other substance he can abuse if the night feels right.

And _this_ is not the case.

Now he feels like he’s looking for trouble but in a way he’s not comfortable with. In a way he really fucking shouldn’t. Not after… fuck. Not with his personal… shit or whatever you wanna call it. Not after everything and not especially after what happened last time he let himself care…

Nope. He’s not letting himself think about that. He’s not going there.

So, well, he shouldn’t. Or couldn’t. And that’s another thing when it comes to Rob. The fact that he _shouldn’t or couldn’t_ it usually means that he most certainly fucking will. Of course he will. You just gotta tell Rob not to do something and his head will work it out by itself. Back when he was only four his mom told him not to play with the expensive China she’d bought in her trip to Italy. So, naturally, he used it to serve mud-puddings. This other time, when he was only twelve, his best friend from high school told Rob he shouldn’t mix those two particular substances in the chemistry lab and that day the entire class got sent home early courtesy of the fire department shutting down the lab for inspections. God, when he was sixteen his father let him know, not very subtly, that with his fucking attitude he would never get into a good school and he ended up getting into fucking Yale. Same reason he started smoking when he was only fifteen, or why he ended up breaking into that old hag’s beach house with two punks he met at a Dead Kennedy’s concert just to mug her booze cabinet; or why he ended up sucking his first fuck’s cock in his parents pool in plain daylight while they were in the living room. All things he knew he _shouldn’t_ do. Things other people –and maybe himself- thought he _couldn’t_ do. Things that maybe, to some degree, scared him. Things he _should_ stay away from.

So. Of course is fucking Friday and Rob is coming out of his dorm, with only one place to go in mind. That fucking auditorium. That Coffee. Gary. A thing he shouldn’t do. A person he’s sure he can’t afford to get close to. Or maybe it’s just coffee and Rob is thinking way too fucking much about this shit. Maybe Gary only wants to fuck and doesn’t know how to go about it and Rob’s blowing shit out of proportion in his own head. And, ok, maybe that’s equally problematic, Rob thinks.

 

He’s almost running out of his dorm, immersed in his own head and all this bullshit. He’s so out of it, he barely sees that there’re a couple of bodies sprawled on the hallway floor on his way to the main door. That’s fairly normal, though. Everyone uses the hallways sort of like a hang-out spot when they don’t want to go outside or into a dorm, so it’s not really something that catches Rob’s attention. It only does when he hears someone call him. “Going somewhere, Bob?” Jason asks and it’s only then that Rob’s eyes actually look in their direction. Jason is sitting down with his back against the wall, playing a guitar that’s gently sitting on his lap. Next to him are two girls Rob doesn’t know and doesn’t really care to know. And Howard’s coming from the end of the hall –where his dorm is- in their direction with a couple of beers in his hands, just about to join them.

“Well, hello boys.” Robs salutes raising his eyebrows and playing it as cool as he can. Also, ignoring the girls because, honestly, he doesn’t have time for this game Jay and Dougie usually play.

“Hello,” says Jay going back to his guitar and Dougie mumbles something along those lines but it gets lost in translation thanks to the bottle of beer on his lips. For a second, neither Jay nor Doguie say anything else and Rob knows them way too much to find that odd. They’re in the middle of something. A very specific _something_. The two girls are looking at Jay, almost as dreamily as Howard is. And Rob usually finds this really interesting, he really does, but now he only manages to roll his eyes and stare for a couple more seconds. Rob knows he’s in the middle of this _thing_ Jay and Dougie do. Jay would exploit this soothing and mysterious, relaxed and profound thing he has going to charm the girls while Dougie _plays_ the innocent bystander. Jay’s really good at it. And it comes so natural to him; Rob has always found it fascinating. And irritating at times the fact that Jay’s so effortless at it. It also doesn’t hurt that Jay’s as good looking as he is. And Dougie? Dougie _loves_ watching him do that. The fucker gets off on it. They both do, Rob knows. He’s seen them dance this dance way too many times already. Jay will charm the girls, Dougie will encourage him, they will smile at each other like there’s no one else in the room while they have the filthiest conversation with their eyes and then they’ll decide, in that silent conversation, if they are going to fuck just the two of them or if they are going to invite the girls to join them. Sure, they have female friends who they don’t fuck but the picture Rob’s looking at he recognizes it all too well to consider it’s something else.

“I’ll let you two have fun, then” he says as a response to Jay’s silence. Dougie’s not exactly paying attention to Rob anyways.

“Avoiding my question?” Jason asks in this peaceful tone that usually calms Rob but now it feels sort of irritating. Rob has places to go. People to see. Or someone to see. A very blond, gorgeous and terrifying someone.

“Maybe.” Rob shrugs.

“Vague.” Jay retorts still looking at his guitar and grazing his fingers with the strings without actually playing something concrete.

“Weren’t you the one that said that even if we don’t know it, we’re always going somewhere?” Rob asks taunting Jay biting his lips to hide his smile. Jay _actually_ said that. And, wait, what? These two chicks are sighing at that? Really?

“Deep.” Howard’s the one mocking Jay now. And maybe a little to the girls sitting next to them because of their ridiculous reaction to something so pretentious.

“Fuck off, babe” Jay says without losing a single string of his cool and Rob wonders how the fuck does he always manages to sound so undisturbed but efficient when telling Howard to go fuck himself. “I don’t appreciate you using my own words against me” he says finally looking up at Rob and smiling affectionately.

“Then stop trying so desperately to sound so wise all the fucking time,” Robs counters offhandedly “it implies that you want me to listen to your _oh-so_ insightful lessons” he finishes in a half serious, half ridicule tone.

“I do no such thing, my friend.” He says matter-of-fact like while going back to his guitar.

“No. It just comes naturally to you, right Buddha?” Dougie asks, teasing tone on tow.

Jason’s ignoring the guitar now and directing his eyes towards Doguie. “Oh, so you’re siding with him? Are you sure that’s smart, Dougie?” he asks like it is the most innocent question, but they both know it’s not. Or, the three of them know, really. The only ones not getting it are the two girls over there, frowning, apparently.

“I do no such thing, my friend.” Dougie repeats what Jay said smiling, all teeth, taunt and fondness.

“Oh, god” Rob rolls his eyes and he’s about to leave when Jay stops crackling at Dougie’s playful banter and turns slightly to Rob, rearranging the guitar in his lap so it stays in place.

“I was just wondering where you were going that prevents you from coming to the Molly’s tonight.” Jay wonders out loud. “Mark was surprisingly vague about your plans, too. Now I see it wasn’t probably his fault.” He says like he’s fucking presuming to understand why Rob doesn’t wanna say where he’s going.

“I have friends outside the three of you, you know?” Rob lets them know.

“You really don’t.” Howard frowns smiling a bit.

“He really doesn’t” Jay adds.

“Goodbye” Rob says, because well, that’s enough. And he’s losing time.

“Oh, come on, Robbie! Since when are you so sensitive? What are you hiding?” Jay asks pointedly. He’s right though. They fuck around like this all the time, this is nothing new. But like pretty much anything else when it comes to this new blonde Rob just met, he’s thinking about everything way too fucking much.

“I have plans with someone, that’s it.” Rob says carelessly because, fuck, it’s not such a big fucking deal. Period.

“Bullshit.” Howards the one calling him on it now after taking a sip of his beer. “If you’re having a fuck then you can come to the Molly’s later, ya know? After you’re done taking care of your dick.” At that, Jay only nods are raises his eyebrows emphatically. And, well, he’s right. Rob’s been known to do that, yes. “There was this one time you even made the dude blow you in the toilet of the place so you wouldn’t miss happy hour” Dougie adds and, again, true but Jay doesn’t need to nod again, alright? Even if Rob, ok, well, maybe he’s a little proud of himself. That was a good night.

“Well, not this time.” Rob says without paying much attention to what they were saying. “Or maybe I won’t give a shit after jizzing and you’ll see me at Molly’s in a couple of hours, I don’t know.” Rob says like it’s a possibility. Or… maybe he’s wishing he’ll be able to that. Maybe he’s wishing that once he gets to fuck Gary he’ll be able to just forget about it and go on with his life. That is if this coffee date leads to fucking. Oh god, it has to lead to fucking. Or sucking. Or something. This can’t be just a fucking coffee date.

“I have a feeling… I’d rather not see you tonight” Jay says, yanking Rob out of his thoughts.

“Did Mark say anything to you?” Rob asks, because, really. Jay’s not just saying that to sound profound. The fucker knows something he’s not saying and Rob figures it was Mark who opened that big mouth of his. There is no fucking privacy or secrets with these fuckers sometimes.

“Like I said, Mark was really woolly about it” Jay shrugs, going back to that damn guitar.

“Yeah, I bet” Rob answers not believing shit of that uninformed fucking attitude Jay’s playing with.

“What the shit are you on about?” Dougie asks, honestly confused.

“Absolutely nothing.” Jay shrugs again. And Rob thinks he’s shrugging way too much for someone who’s not hiding shit.

“You are fucking exhausting” Rob pretty much grunts and turns back on his heels, getting away from them and towards the building main door at the end of the hall.

“Have fun, Bob!” Jay shouts.

“Fuck you, Jay.” Rob makes a point to give him the middle finger without looking at him or slowing down his pace. And yes, he’s biting the inside of his cheek to hide a smile, because he hates his friends but he also loves them. Rob thinks he hears Dougie asking _‘What the hell was that?’_ and can’t help but honestly smile now while he finally leaves the building and Jay answers _‘Nothing, babe’_ with a tone that sounds too fucking fond.

 

***

 

This should be easy, Gary thinks while walking towards the auditorium. He was done with his classes for the day and went back to his dorm to have a shower, put on clean clothes and then straight to the auditorium. Yes, this should be easy. It’s simply coffee. Harmless and _casual_ coffee. Then… why does it feel so heavy?

He knows why. Of course he absolutely knows why. He’s only asking himself in the hopes that things changed in his head in the last twenty four hours. But they haven’t.

Gary is nervous; for… well, a number of reasons. The first one is the most obvious one. Rob makes him nervous. No one Gary’s even met made him feel this insecure and this anxious at the same time. No one he’s ever met before managed to make him surf in this ocean of unsettledness, excitement, insecurity and apprehensiveness. Especially not someone who he only met a couple of times, literally. Not someone who he barely talked to. Not someone who he ended up massively angered and aroused by. Because Rob is gorgeous; but he’s a punk. Because Rob is fascinating; but also a riddle. Because Rob is interesting; but as smug as they come. Because yes, he is smug; but Gary still thinks there’s more to that. A lot more to that. After that day at the auditorium, Gary is sure there is more to discover under those thin layers of self-satisfaction. More of the man he thinks he can see but Rob is hiding. More of that man he wants to kiss again. Oh lord, he wants to kiss him again. And do a lot more than snogging too. Things he doesn’t even know how to actually do. Well, not from experience anyways.

And so, the second is just as obvious, Gary guesses. It comes attached to that first one. To what Rob makes him… feel inside. And outside. To all those things he wants to do but is not entirely certain how to do them. To all of those things he fantasies about but can’t quite _feel_ them because he never experienced them. He’s thought about them. He really, absolutely, meticulously and irrefutably thought about them. He’s been thinking about them since that kiss but in the last twenty four hours it became… well, intense. Ardent and powerful inside of him. Gary wants to be brave, in a way. Wants to take all those things Rob makes him feel and use them to show him. Show him how much he wants him, how much he wants Rob to want him back. Lord. He wants to kiss Rob again. He wants to make him moan. He wants to feel Rob’s tongue pressing inside his mouth in demand. He wants to touch Rob. He wants to feel Rob, his heat, his erection. He wants to taste Rob’s sweat. He wants to feel Rob’s fingers dance inside of him. He wants to feel Rob inside. He wants to be inside of Rob. There’s an entire parade of the most obscene images in Gary’s head involving only him and Rob. And even though they’ve been setting camp in there for the past week, the last twenty four hours had been insufferable. Those images have been all over him. Creating fire. Desire like nothing he ever felt before. Or nourished from that existing flame Rob lighted up in him when he kissed him. A flame Gary has no concrete idea how to go about. Not in reality. Only in theory and fantasies.

And the third one is because he knows that asking for a cup of coffee when he already kissed him was ridiculous. Sloppy. Even innocent. He must’ve looked gullible like never before, he thinks. He wonders if Rob laughed at the seeming naivety Gary displayed. Ugh. Gary feels absolutely self-conscious about the whole situation. About suggesting something so casual, almost wholesome, to someone he kissed like he was absolutely mental. He knows that it must be not only anti-climactic but also absolutely ridiculous. Yes, Gary guesses that this is how he looks in Rob’s eyes. Ridiculous. Inviting him to go out for coffee when it was fairly clear that he wanted to do more. That both of them did.

Right? Yes. Yes, he doesn’t doubt about Rob’s intentions. Maybe acting in such a chaste way might result as a turn off for Rob, especially after how clearly willing he showed himself to be at that horrid pub, but Rob accepted the invitation anyways. He said yes, even though there was nothing implied to it.

And Gary wants something attached to that invitation. That’s reality. Gary wants for that invitation to mean something more than coffee. Of course he does. What with all these obscenely satisfying images in his head, and all those private moments he shared with himself having those images in mind… Gary’s terrified. He wants something eagerly but has no concrete idea how to satisfy that want, no experience. He is terrified but ready, he realizes. Or maybe ready is not the word but… open minded? Yes, that sounds better in Gary’s head. Not that he’ll ever say it out loud.

The two hours with the piano at his disposal are almost over and Rob is nowhere to be found. Not that those two hours were anything but a waste. He couldn’t write anything. He couldn’t even concentrate enough to revise things he’s written before. He was nervous and Rob was taking forever to show up. In his mind, Gary knows that it means nothing. He knows that they never set a time and now he’s thinking he wants to kick himself for it. What if he doesn’t come? What if coffee is the last thing Rob’s interested in? What if yesterday meant nothing to him and he’s having yet another laugh at expenses of the Brit bloke that invited him for a cup of coffee instead of giving him a blowjob?

 _Lord almighty, Gary, control yourself_.

The main entrance of the auditorium opens and Gary almost chokes seeing it was no one but Rob. He almost chokes literally, mind. He was not ready for Rob to come in at that exact moment when his head was taking him for a ride through his insecurities. So he started coughing right away thanks to, apparently, absolutely nothing because he wasn’t even drinking tea this time. _Marvelous_ , he thinks.

“Hey,” Gary hears coming from Rob’s direction. “You alright there?” he asks with an amused tone and for a brief moment Gary feels he wants the earth to swallow him whole. Then, he reasons, is not that bad. It can happen to anyone, for a number of reasons. Not having absolute control of his swallowing functions is not that bad. Or. _Shit_. Why did his head go there?

“Hello Rob,” Gary masters to say fairly relaxed. Even though he is sure his face is red -not only from the coughing- and his hands are uncharacteristically sweaty. He swallows and smiles, still sitting on the piano chair. He half way turns and smiles, now a bit more at ease. He’s here. Rob is here. So he came and all those previous insecurities were only in his head. Or at least some of them were. “You came” he lets out without even thinking, but with an earnest tone.

Rob’s smiling with an intrigued smile, eyebrows going along with the expression. “You surprised?” he asks with what really looks like concern.

“I don’t know you enough to be sure, do I?” Gary suggests. And, really, he figures is not too much honesty being forward about that particular aspect of his preoccupations.

“You really don’t.” Rob simply agrees out loud and for a couple of seconds says nothing else. He’s looking at Gary with something that Gary can’t quite read but that it doesn’t look bad, not exactly. Curiosity, maybe. And Gary guesses curiosity is would be a valid sentiment. After all, the naivety in Gary’s invitation could also be read as some sort of play. Not that Gary’s used to any of that, not that he ever cared much for these kinds of mind games when it comes to dating. But he is aware of them nonetheless.

“Ready to go?” Rob finally speaks. “Or… am I early? I can fuck around for a while if you want.” Rob suggests half turning his body towards the door again.

“No, no.” Gary says a little more enthusiastically than he aimed for. He smiles and compels himself to calm down. “It’s alright. Just let me gather my things.” He asks and Rob nods lightly, giving him a lazy and quite beautiful smile.

Gary takes a second to swallow that smile and gives one back without even thinking. Yes, dear god yes, Gary is nervous. No question about that. So he takes that second and then goes back to his notebook, grabbing it and tucking it away in his backpack. He lets his hands rest on the piano keys, without making a sound, only saying goodbye. Little habit he picked up ages ago, since his first keyboard. Gary closes the piano and with his backpack on his shoulder walks towards Rob.

Rob looking… gorgeous, effortlessly gorgeous. And Gary is starting to understand that, well… _that_ is part of the appeal in Rob. He is attractive, without even trying hard. He’s only wearing jeans and a long sleeved black t-shirt that fits perfectly in his frame. Gary’s even sure he didn’t think about what he’d be wearing too hard. And it works. There is a raw and natural thing to the way he shows himself that has absolutely nothing to do with the character he saw onstage the other night, but that works exactly in the same manner. He is not overly confident, but simply exists in that raggedly handsome characteristic to his looks.

They smile at each other for a little too long and then Rob’s tilting his head a bit towards to door. So they start walking, side by side, until they are out the door and out the building. It’s cold, really cold. Gary’s not sure if this is how it usually is for almost September weather, but it sure is colder than in London. Rob must be used to it, because he doesn’t seem bothered, while Gary is closing his jacket. A warm coffee would be perfect right about now, Gary thinks.

“Ok, so I have something to confess.” Gary starts talking the minute they step outside. He stops walking and looks at Rob with a humble smile on his face. “I have absolutely no idea where to take you for coffee.” He admits, and he has to laugh too. The realization that he didn’t think this through, suddenly too present. And it is odd, that’s why he has to laugh. Gary’s the person who would make a list of every single item he could possibly need in the states before even starting packing and it’s been twenty four whole hours since he invited Rob and he didn’t think about asking around for a good place to drink coffee. And Gary has no idea what to make of that. Either way, he doesn’t want to think about that, rather attribute it to his nerves. So, he continues explaining, “I’ve only been here for a month and, honestly, most of the places here are absolutely horrendous when it comes to coffee. I end up making my own coffee in my dorm every morning before heading out but I don’t suppose we can go there--” Gary realizes he’s talking too much and he’s suddenly too aware of what he said. Apparently, Rob is too, because he’s looking at him with an eyebrow raised and a quite exasperatingly entertained expression on his face. Oh god. “Oh, no, no. That’s not what I meant…” Gary might be blushing. And he also might want to smack Rob, only a bit. “Do you… know a good place around?” Gary finally concludes what he was trying to say in the first place and waits trying not to look anxious, not sure he’s succeeding.

And Rob laughs. He laughs like he could read where Gary’s mind went and he was letting him know that it was nothing. He laughs _with_ Gary now and that, somehow, made his anxiety diminish considerably. “Yeah, sure” Rob nods, “follow me.” Rob asks.

“Lead the way then.” Is what Gary says, nodding collectedly as they start walking.

They keep a steady pace while they make their way towards the dormitory buildings and away from the music wing where the auditorium and studios are. They walk for several minutes in silence. A kind of silence that started pleasant but that became awkward as it kept getting longer. And it’s not that Gary doesn’t want to talk. He would love to be talking right now but he’s nervous. He is not a man to suffer stage fright, if you will, but now he is feeling something that he figures looks really similar to that. Honestly, he would love to exchange all sorts of conversations with Rob. He looks like someone who would enjoy the differences they clearly have, someone who might even appreciate them. Because they are different, Gary is sure about that. Even if he doesn’t actually know Rob, you only have to see how comfortable he was at the _Jolly Molly_ the other night and how in his element he looked to understand that he and Gary might just live in different worlds. Or maybe they are not that different beyond the surface. And that sounds even more interesting to Gary, that uncertainty. He wants to talk to this bloke. Get to know him even. Even if he’s aware of how ridiculous that sounds, he wants to. He wants to pick his brains, if you will. Know what does Rob likes about that pub they played for, that crowd. What he thinks about his music, what he thinks about Gary’s music. Why would he choose the Ramones, why that song. Lord, Gary wants to know what makes Rob tick, what scares him, what he holds dear, what makes him passionate. All of which he could only achieve knowing by talking, he knows that. But he’s not doing that. Neither is Rob. And he can’t help but wonder… why? Gary knows why _he_ is not doing it, but why isn’t Rob?

After a while, he notices that Rob’s looking at him. Not directly, but only certain moments of their walk, he catches Rob looking at him with an indefinable expression. Interest, maybe. And Gary’s not going to play fool, alright? He might see interest in Rob’s eyes, but the way Gary’s looking at Rob from the corner of his eyes, definitely holds interest. He can’t help but, immerse in the silence, get lost in how… in _how much_ he likes Rob. From the way he walks to the way those trousers fit in him. To the way that loose shirt fits his shape to the shine in his eyes when their glances meet. Yes. Gary definitely has interest in Rob. A very specific interest. Not that it was a secret, though.

“This is a bit awkward, innit?” Gary finally speaks. He looks at Rob with uncertainty. He really wants to know where Rob’s standing right now. Metaphorically speaking, mind.

“Doesn’t have to be.” is what Rob says, raising his eyebrows but also sporting a very determined look, like he really means that, even though he hasn’t said a word since they got out of the building.

“I suppose not.” Gary admits, nodding. He guesses Rob is right. If it wasn’t for the many, many, _many_ questions in Gary’s head, he would be happy to start the most casual form of conversations. Only. He’s not the only one silent, is he? “But… you’re quiet.” He points out. “I wonder if there’s a reason for that” Gary says as naturally as he can. He doesn’t want to sound like he’s thinking about this too much. This. Right. “The bloke I met the last week was anything but quiet.” He tries taunting, but smiling with utmost honesty. Gary can’t help but remember that Rob who managed to talk to him about courses and instruments, the one that called him a girl’s name and made him angry and mad, all by not shutting his mouth in the short span of half an hour.

“What? You like me loud?” Rob gives back, cocking only one eyebrow, letting Gary know all he needs to know about that seemingly nonsensical question. It was very everything but senseless, Gary understood. An apparently his insides did as well. That’s all it took for his cock to move slightly in interest.

“Oh, but you’re assuming I like you.” Gary says teasing and using an uninterested tone, which he has no idea where it comes from because his chest felt like expanding the second Rob implied that he might be interested in being loud for Gary.

Rob laughs at that, reducing the distance between then while they are still walking. “I’m assuming shit, man. I have a good memory, ‘s all.” Rob points out and turns his head to fully look at Gary now. “Drunk and high or not, I remember very fucking well.” He says going straight to the point, letting Gary know very effectively two things. Teasing was not going to work if he wanted to pretend indifference. And that Rob might have been drunk the other night, but he remembers very well the way Gary’s body pathetically reacted to his game.

“Oh…” Gary sighs and he can’t help but slow his walk. He’s… thinking about that. About the way Rob just said that. He remembers. He’s interested. He _remembers_.

“So, do you? Like me loud?” Rob asks again, and now they are not walking anymore, Rob easily crowding into Gary’s personal space, only not invasively. Luckily. Or unfortunately.

“I don’t…” Gary mumbles nonsensically, trying to find the words he wants to say out loud. “No?” Because, honestly, does he? Does he want Rob loud? He doesn’t want that almost cynical Rob he met seven nights ago, but part of him can’t help but think that he actually wants to know if Rob is loud. Only it has absolutely nothing to do with his “rockstar” mask and everything to do with this obscene fantasies overflowing Gary’s brain. “I am still—“ he finally starts saying, but it’s suddenly cut by Rob finishing Gary’s thought.

“figuring it out?” Rob accurately guesses out loud.

“Yes.” Gary nods finally looking up at Rob but now moving. The space between them too much and too little at the same time.

“What I don’t get is… you look like a confident enough guy.” Rob points out, not sounding like he’s mocking Gary like, honestly, Gary would’ve expected. “What do you need to figure out?” Rob looks entertained but sounds honest, like he is really trying to understand what is it that Gary keeps trying to figure out. That’s only when Gary realizes he already said that to Rob, not 25 hours ago. He wonders if Rob remembers that and that’s why he’s asking that, if that’s why he knew what Gary was going to say before he said it. Gary wonders if Rob understood it wasn’t just a saying for Gary. If Rob realized Gary was really trying to figure this out. Or figure himself out. Or figure Rob out. Or everything, all mushed together in this unsettling situation.

“I…” Gary starts talking but has no idea what to say. What is he trying to figure out? “I just…” Sure, Gary knows the answer to that but can’t ease his mind enough to think properly about the words he wants to use with Rob.

“Yes?” Rob presses, giving another step in Gary’s direction, closing the distance between then considerably.

And Gary can feel the hit of Rob sudden closeness. His heart is pounding almost audible in his chest. Or Gary assumes his heart is still in his chest, because he can feel it in his throat at this point. He takes a deep breath before he opens his mouth. “Alright, wait” he asks to, well, no one really. Maybe to himself. Maybe to the world around him because he needs to do something with this anxiety and it feels like the world revolving around them is just out to get him. Gary’s not making any sense in his head, he knows it. He doesn’t care. He just… “I need to…” he says, again, to no one other than the world and one of his hands go to Rob’s cheek. Gary finally closes the distance between them and his lips go straight to Rob’s. Gary kisses him softly, like he’s tasting Rob’s lips. Because that’s what he’s doing. This is what he wanted to figure it out. He told Rob he wanted him to stay away but he doesn’t want that anymore. He told him he needed to figure out if he wanted or not for Rob to be loud and this is part of it. Gary kisses Rob like he’s asking a question. Something he needs answered. Gary is tasting Rob’s lips in a way he didn’t do the last time he kissed him. This kiss is meticulous and sweet. Is a kiss that tastes different without the alcohol or the cigarettes tainting their mouths and heads. It’s tongues caringly massaging each other, wet but no teeth. Rob is kissing him back almost carefully and exactly how Gary wanted that kiss to be, his hand holding Gary’s and his fingers intertwined in the sweetest most unnecessary way. The exact opposite to their first kiss. Just as perfect. And just as arousing, Gary realizes. God, he doesn’t need to figure out shit anymore. “…do that” Gary finishes something he started saying what feels like ten minutes ago before that kiss started.

“’s not like that answers my question, but I let it slide.” Rob says playfully, breathing heavily, without really loosing neither the closeness between them nor the tight grip in Gary’s waist.

“Do you ever shut up?” Gary scolds him, brushing his lips against Rob’s when he talks and smiling brightly without even trying to hide it.

“So you _don’t_ like me loud” Rob counters and they both laugh a bit.

Gary’s not willing to say another word because there are other things he’d like to do now. Like kiss Rob again. And again. And then again. Even though they are in a public place. Gary’s never been big on PDA but he also never felt the need to kiss someone so desperately that he had to do it right there, in the middle of the college campus. One that is not exactly crowded thanks to the fact that is late on a Friday before a long weekend and most students are already on their way to spend it with their families before returning for classes on Tuesday. But it is a public place nonetheless. And Gary is kissing a man like there’s no one around to care.

Or maybe _he_ is the one who can’t step away from how amazing it feels not to care about anything but how much he wants this kiss.

And how much he _doesn’t_ have to figure out shit anymore.

 

***

 

“Fuck,” Rob very unceremoniously moans into Gary’s lips in the middle of what must be their fiftieth kiss. Not that Rob’s counting. He really isn’t. He’s too fucking busy kissing, touching and groping Gary at this point to think about numbers. And, remember, he’s good with numbers. But not now. Now there’s nothing in the fucking world worth thinking about but Gary’s lips, tongue, teeth, hands and entire body pressed against his. They moved themselves against a wall now. Or at some point they did. Rob can’t remember when that happened, he only remembers the fact that their kiss got so fucking heated he needed to find a wall to have some kind of leverage against the way Gary is making his knees fucking weak. Rob has no fucking idea how they got from barely talking while going for coffee and Gary looking almost unsure to this. Not that he cares right now. No. He can’t bring himself to think about shit when he has Gary’s boner so deliciously pressed against his thighs and Gary’s mouth tracing with licks and bites the lengths of his neck now. “you’re a fucking good kisser--- ahm, your lips, yes…” he nonsensically manages to say, moan or whisper. Rob’s not sure.

“Yes?” Gary asks, amused, the fucker. But still, not stopping that wonderful thing he’s doing with his tongue against that sweet spot right behind Rob’s ear.

“Are you enjoying yourself?” Rob manages to ask before moving his head to one side only to give Gary more access.

“Actually, yes I am” Gary answers, sound muffled by Rob’s skin. Rob can’t help but smile while his hands move tracing Gary’s back, landing on that sweet ass.

“Look who’s the smug face now—oh” Rob says but it’s immediately interrupted by Gary licking his ear lobe and biting it not too rough but just fucking right, making Rob’s body arch in search of friction. More friction. Or something. Anything. More. Whatever. Rob’s hands are grabbing Gary’s ass more firmly now and to that Gary lets out a sound that is fucking obscene and that resonates against Rob’s skin. And Rob needs more. This is fucking amazing but insufficient as fuck. Not enough. It’s not fucking enough so Rob needs to do something. If he only could stop for a second to think what to do. Fuck thinking, though. He doesn’t need to fucking think; he knows exactly what he wants to do. And Gary seems to be just as into this as Rob is so… fuck it

“How about we ahm…” Rob starts talking but Gary’s sucking his skin like a fucking professional and his hips are moving against Rob’s crotch so fucking deliciously and no, it’s not enough but it feels so fucking good Rob can’t find words. Or syllables. Or verbs. Or air. What was he going to say? “Gary,” Rob calls him putting one of his hands in Gary’s chest so he stops for a fucking second. That’s all he needs. A second to find words. Suddenly Gary’s looking at Rob and he is a fucking sight. Gary’s lips are so red and wet, his eyes are so dark an full of fucking want that Rob almost falls to his knees and starts sucking Gary right then and there. “Fuck that coffee… let’s go to my dorm, it’s right across the street” Rob says easily. Yes, that’s a good plan. Perfect plan, Rob thinks.

The problem is that Rob can feel Gary immediately tense at his words. “Oh--- ahm.” Gary starts not saying anything but looking suddenly troubled or something like that “I—I don’t…” Rob raises his eyebrows because he has no idea what’s happening but Gary’s hands are not grabbing Rob’s waist anymore. “I can’t” He finally says.

And wait. What? Why?

“What? Why?” Rob says and yes, that’s pretty much the definition of thinking out loud. Rob doesn’t give a shit if he just sounded like a fucking pathetic beggar going by his tone but he thought Gary was as on board with this as he was. So he thinks he’s fucking allowed to sound this needy.

“I can’t—oh lord” Gary talks and almost cries out defeated, stepping back against the wall, separating himself from Rob. He almost shivers at the sudden absence. Shit. “Alright… but if you laugh, Rob…” he almost threatens Rob, with a very serious and vulnerable look on his face. Almost insecure. Which sounds fucking ridiculous to Rob considering how fucking in charge Gary was two seconds ago and how much the both of them were enjoying that.

“I’m not exactly in the mood to laugh right now.” Rob lets out half confused, half irritated.

“Rob.” Gary’s tone is just as serious as before, only now he’s looking at Rob like he means it. Like he’s not fucking around. Like Gary is the one begging now. So before Rob realizes it, he’s taking a big breath and pushing past the need to just drag Gary to his dorm.

“What is it?” he asks now a little less irritated but a lot more confused. Gary looks straight to his feet now. He’s thinking or doubting or something but Rob can tell he’s getting lost in his own head and now Rob’s worried. What the hell did he do? He reaches for Gary’s chin with only two fingers trying to find his eyes again “What is it, Gary?”

“I’ve… I’ve never” Gary worrying his eyebrows but he’s still not looking directly into Rob’s eyes. He keeps talking anyways and Rob’s not gonna stop him. “I’ve never done this before. Being with a man, I mean. Or even kissing one… I’ve--”

“Oh” he was not going to stop him until now that is, because it made immediate sense. _Oh, god._ All of it. The first kiss, the way he doubted, how he looked almost uncertain about everything, the distance and how frustrated he looked after that first kiss, how he said he needed to ‘figure it out’. All of it made sense now. Of course Gary was a virgin. Or at least a virgin when it came to men. That made absolute sense.

But wait. “Why in the fucking world would I laugh at that?” he asks with an unplanned earnestness, smiling softly. _Wow._ Gary must think Rob is an absolute dick, Rob realizes. And he’s not gonna judge Gary for that, he really is not. He knows he’s been an asshole to Gary before. Actually, if Rob’s being honest, if the situation was different Rob would be laughing. Not to his face. Or maybe to his face. He’s been known to be an asshole. But this… well, this was not the case with Gary. Rob didn’t want Gary to think about him that way. Even though Rob knew it shouldn’t really matter what the fuck Gary thought of him, as long as he’s willing to put out, he still didn’t want to be a dick to Gary. But he was going to avoid thinking about that or what that means at all costs. No time for thinking.

Gary hasn’t given him an answer yet but he’s looking with a surprised look on his face. Rob sighs and his hand is cocking Gary’s cheek. Rob smiles and can’t help it. “It is not exactly a problem, is it?” he asks biting his lower lip a bit and reducing the fucking distance between them again. He’s not laughing, he’s not gonna laugh, but he is sort of endeared. And, well, fucking turned on. Because the idea of being the first is suddenly way too fucking arousing for him to ignore. “We have all the time in the world, sugar.” And at that, Gary seems to relax. His body is not tense anymore and his eyes close slightly when Rob thumb traces the edges of his jawline. Rob goes for a kiss but stops before, his lips only ghosting Gary’s. “No need to rush.” Rob whispers while his hand is feeling the length of Gary’s back. To that he feels Gary exhale, looking almost relieved with his eyes fully shut now. Rob smiles to himself and moves his lips to Gary’s ear. “I just wanna have you somewhere I can grope you without having a fucking audience.” Rob whispers in that spot and moves his hip against Gary’s still present erection, only illustrating his point.

“O…okay” Gary almost moans in response.

“Okay?” Rob’s mainly repeating what Gary says without even thinking. “Fuck the coffee, then?” he asks biting his own lip hard, trying to hold his own fucking anxiety because Gary’s hands are on his waist again, holding him close.

“What coffee?” Gary asks tightening his grip on Rob, bringing him even closer. Rob smiles satisfied as fuck and bites his neck before he’s grabbing Gary’s hand and getting the hell out of there, across the street, passing that now forgotten coffee shop they were supposed to go to and into Rob’s building.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Come talk to me on [Tumblr](http://marea707.tumblr.com/) (:  
> [This](http://marea707.tumblr.com/tagged/rpg%3A-uni-au) is the tag I have specially for this au.


	4. Into The Labyrinth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They finally arrive at Rob's dorm room. In there, there's a lot of first times, seconds, thirds and, well, you get the idea. There's also a movie, talking, laughter and awkwardness. Point is, it's all very intimate and amazing and Rob might just be freaking out about that. So, he makes a deal with himself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heey!  
> It took me a while to post this but this is the first time I write smut in English, like ever. I mainly hope is readable, I think it's not too bad.
> 
> Also, a little thing to have in mind. In this AU Rob has sisters. Two of them to be precise. I know that the real Rob has only one but if we're already pretending that Rob is from the US, we can pretend that he has two siblings as well, right? Hopefully is not that important, it's just that they are relevant to understand a little bit Rob's personality in the future. So let's pretend together, yes? =)
> 
> Thank you [Libby](http://elerinwen.tumblr.com/) for being my light, co-creator and beta <3  
> Shout-out to [onefinedayback4good](http://elerinwen.tumblr.com/) for pointing out my little _faux pas_. It's all good now. Thanks ;)
> 
> Comments, kudos, questions or even criticism: always welcomed.
> 
> Hope you enjoy!! *goes away*

If anyone asks Gary this instant what is it that he is doing, he wouldn’t know how to answer. He would absolutely have no idea how to answer that question properly. What _is_ he even thinking? He wouldn’t be able to answer that either. He finds himself wondering about that the moment his hand is posed almost neatly on Rob’s center back while he’s opening the door for his dorm. Gary also has no idea how he’s mastering this calm exterior when in his inside the only thing he can feels is _chaos_.

He’s been kissing Rob for the last thirty minutes. _They’ve_ been kissing for the past thirty minutes. Incredibly lost in a kiss that is nothing like the one they had before. They’ve been kissing like there was no one else around and like they didn’t want to do anything else in the world but that. _Well._ That sounds exactly like last time, doesn’t it? But it really, really wasn’t. This time they were kissing each other knowing that this was something they both wanted. There was desperation but it wasn’t one that came unexpected. It was heated but not from a place of anger. It was floppy and vehement but because they wanted more and not because they were worried it would end anytime soon. And the main difference this time, Gary thinks, is that he is the one that initiated the kiss. Somehow the fact that it was under his terms makes all the difference. Not because he feels in control (there’s no such thing even remotely similar to control in his system right now, Gary reckons) but because now he knows that they are both on the same page. Or. No, that’s not accurate, right? Rob is nowhere near Gary, in that sense, but at least now he knows. Gary told him that he was… well, that Rob was the first man he ever kissed and the first one he wanted this way. Gary told him and the only thing Rob did to that was make him feel… secure. And that is weird, to say the least, Gary thinks. He wasn’t expecting that. He was expecting for Rob to laugh; maybe to retort with some absolutely distastefully mean comment; maybe simply leave. But Rob did nothing but assure him that this wasn’t a problem. That Gary’s inexperience _wasn’t_ an issue.

And Gary knows it sounds stupid and naïve, but he doesn’t care. This is important to him. Important that of all the things Rob could’ve done; he told Gary not only that it wasn’t a problem but also that there was no reason for them to rush things. And that? That reaction? That reassurance? That is _extremely_ important, Gary reckons. That makes Gary think that maybe he is not wrong about Rob; that this idea in the back of Gary’s head in not all that deranged. Gives him confidence to think that maybe he is right and there is _more_ to Rob.

And combined with the fact that Gary hasn’t been able to think about anything else since the first time he kissed Rob, then… well, of course he’s here. Desperate but trying to collect himself. Waiting for Rob to open his dorm’s door. To be together. _With no audience_ , like Rob said.

Lord. Gary might be freaking out. Only a tad.

But also, he’s not stopping. He can’t. Honestly. Even if he tried. Not that he wants to, mind. That’s the thing. Actually, that’s what should be freaking him out the most, only it’s not.

Gary has no idea where this is going. He doesn’t know if Rob’s going to try something, because he might’ve been lying when he said that they didn’t have to _run_ to the finish line, to put it poetically. Only Gary doesn’t think so. Or maybe he’s so delusional and full of need that he’s confusing his gut with his wishes.

Whether is one or the other; he has no time to properly think about that because Rob’s opening the door and going inside his flat. He’s grabbing Gary by the hand and dragging him in, even though there is no need because the man is following him already. Rob throws his keys somewhere, maybe a table or a chair. Gary would look, but he can’t. He’s too busy looking at Rob. Looking those dark eyes and how that smile is complementing that expression of craving so beautifully. How he’s almost panting even though they haven’t been kissing for long painful minutes now. How he’s… god, his pants are tenting still and Gary might have let out a small whimper at that, but he has no idea how someone could blame him because. Well. Because Rob is the most ridiculously good looking guy he’s ever met, alright? Gary doesn’t like to be that absolutist in his statements, but he has no bloody doubt that Rob is the most appealing, attractive, gorgeous and charming person he’s even met. And Rob wants him back. He is _hard_ for him. He is looking directly at Gary like he wants to eat him and if that’s not the definition of arousing then Gary doesn’t know what is.

“Yeah. So. Hi; home sweet home; welcome to my humble abode and all that shit.” Rob finally talks after they’ve been staring at each other with impossible desire and unstable breathing for at least an entire minute. But then he’s closing the distance between them and grabbing Gary by his jacket just before he left his backpack on the floor, forgotten like that coffee they never had. “Come ‘ere.” Rob demands and draws Gary into a kiss he so gladly returns.

They are eagerly kissing again, only this time with that peaceful security that no one’s going to interrupt them in the middle of—well, whatever it is that they are doing here. And just when that idea crosses Gary’s thoughts, he needs to ask. “Are we… alone?” he manages without entirely breaking the kiss, his hands now lost somewhere in Rob’s back, in the feeling of his warm skin on his fingers through his t-shirt.

“Yeah,” Rob answers without leaving Gary’s lips, his jacket long lost somewhere on the floor. He only breaks the kiss to say something else and Gary’s about to protest, only Rob’s body is pressing his, making Gary walk backwards until he hits the door, suddenly collapsing with each other. Something Rob, considering his expression, fully intended to do. Not that Gary’s complaining. No. He’s too busy exhaling a very embarrassing moan to the sudden feel of Rob’s cock against his own erection. “My roommate’s a family boy,” Rob explains like it matters even though his hips are suddenly moving forward; “won’t be home until Monday.” Oh, right. Long weekend. Gary forgot. Forgot about breathing as well, apparently. “We can take our time.” Rob promises and smiles with a cheeky smile that has Gary moving his hand to Rob’s jawbone. He needs to kiss that smile. So he does. He holds him firmly and pretty much dives into Rob’s thin and red lips, making that smile disappear.

Rob hands go straight to Gary’s bum, holding him firmly while Rob keeps kissing him and pressing him against the wall; friction increasing considerably. The kiss never stops and it’s all parted lips, tongues playing and teeth nipping. It’s frantic. It's the kind of kiss Gary’s never had before. Hell, it’s a whole new level of passion Gary’s goddamn sure he never felt. He can’t help but feel overwhelmed in the most incredible way. Not that he has time to think about that because without a single word, Rob’s going for Gary’s shirt. He doesn’t take it off though, but pulls from the material and it feels like he almost doubts for a moment. Gary is about to whimper embarrassingly but he suddenly realizes it has nothing to do with Rob doubting about _this_ because he’s still kissing him intensely, that’s why he decides to go for it himself. He grips his own shirt and pushes Rob with his hips, moaning from the contact but successfully pulling Rob from him enough to take care of this annoying piece of clothing. And before Gary realizes what he’s doing or has time to think about the fact that he’s on his way to being naked and aroused in front of another man, he’s doing the exact same thing with Rob’s t-shirt.

“Oh—you are…” Gary murmurs, eyes glassy and breath definitely unsteady. He can’t help it. He needs a pause. His sight travels from Rob’s neck to his broad chest, nicely decorated by the perfect amount of chest hair. Lord, his nipples are perked and Gary never thought in his life he’d feel the need to suck on them. But as it turns out, he does. Gary is learning loads of new things about himself today. Like the fact that he likes tattoos, apparently. Never thought he would either, but it’s hard to discuss with the twitch his cock does under the clothes. He wants to lick those as well. Not now though. Now he’s looking, appreciating, suffering because his eyes are now following that neat line of hair that ends in the waistline of Rob’s trousers. He’s mesmerized, enchanted even with the clear line of Rob’s erection pressing against---

“Yeah, you too.” Robs sounds equally altered and when Gary travels back to his eyes he can see how… lord, how Rob is looking at him. Like he can’t believe what he has in front of him and Gary might be ready to die. “Shit, you too.” Rob repeats eagerly flustered and, yeah, Gary is about to pass out, he’s sure.

“Bedroom?” he says instead, absolutely sure that he’s riding the adrenaline now.

Rob quirks an eyebrow at that. “Really?” he asks basically if Gary means it, maybe remembering that he promised they could take this slow; only Gary gets that Rob’s taunting him, everything in his face says that. So he just shakes his head laughing and grabs Rob by the edge of his trousers to bring him close again. Gary bites his lower lip murmuring a _“shut it”_ that comes out everything but demanding.

They move still absolutely glued to each other until Rob grabs Gary’s hand and drags him into what he assumes is Rob’s room. He would look around, he really would. The problem is that he can’t pay attention to anything else but the eager man in front of him who’s still looking at him like he’s ready to kill him and is promising Gary will absolutely and undoubtedly love every second of it. And yes. Gary trusts that look. He really, frenetically does.

He wants to move but he doesn’t have time to because Rob doing it for him, pushing Gary, not at all gently, against the bed. He falls against the mattress and laughs loudly because he should’ve seen it coming. Not that he knows Rob enough to foresee his moves, though. But he can’t think about that. He can’t think about what he’s doing (or willing to do) with someone he barely knows. And how… out of character that is.

Nope. He’s definitely _not_ thinking.

How can he? _Damn_.

He can’t. Not when Rob’s almost crawling on the bed, legs spread around him, only his knees supporting him straight. Not for long though. Rob’s lips go back to Gary’s and his hands are smoothly tracing Gary’s soft skin behind his ear and then traveling to his chest and… _shit_. Rob’s sweet lips are on his collarbone now and--- Yes, Gary whimpers. That’s a proper whimper and he couldn’t even hide it because Rob’s lips are on his right nipple. And also his tongue and teeth. Gary’s back arch immediately out of pure reflex and he’s sure he sees Rob smirking and can’t even be bothered about that. About his smugness. Not now. Not when it feels this great. Rob’s hand goes to his other nipple, to pinch it only a little making Gary bark out a moan from the sudden--- _flash_ of delight to his nerves. He was not expecting that. Well, he was not expecting a lot of things before he met Rob, so it’s quite fitting, he thinks.

Rob hands keep going down, as do his lips. He’s tracing Gary’s skin with his tongue and biting in a way that starts subtle and playful, warm and wonderful, but ends up becoming almost aggressive when his teeth bite the hem of his trousers. Gary’s a mess at this point. He knows he is. He’s breathing heavily and unsteady and that’s why he can barely answer when Rob’s eyes go straight to his and he stops for very long and painful seconds. “If you want me stop just say so, okay?” he asks and Gary barely nods letting a bit of a frustrated moan scape his lips in protest. Rob smirks at that and one of his fingers undoes the button of Gary’s trousers. He’s being intentionally slow and Gary bites his bottom lip hard only to stop himself from begging. He knows he’ll be far too gone in a couple of seconds but right now he can stop himself from being desperate so he’s being strong. He’s trying not to lose face, right? But then Rob undoes his zipper and Gary’s sure he can see the need in the way his lips part and his brows shoot up anxiously. Rob’s hands are barely pulling Gary’s trousers now like he’s not really trying to take them off; “you want me stop, Gary?” Rob asks teasingly.

“Christ.” Gary pushes the back of his head against the mattress lamentingly but moves his hips in a frustrated involuntary reaction he would regret but he simply doesn’t. “You’re smug even when you’re hard” he grunts not really turned off by the realization that Rob knows so well what he’s doing (and what he’s going to do) that he feels the need to act just as conceited as he acted on stage, where Gary knows _precisely_ how outstanding he was.

“You have no idea.” Rob counters and Gary’s about to snort a sharp comment but he feels Rob’s hand finding his way between the fabrics and grabbing _him_. So, instead, a pleading moan comes out of Gary’s lips and his hips jerk up against Rob’s fist.

And it’s so different. It’s something that Gary’s done to himself a hundred times (well, maybe not literally a hundred) and it’s something that he had girls done for him before. But this is different. The knowledge that is a man – _Rob_ \- doing this makes everything feel more intense. In a good way. In a wonderful way. In a ‘why haven’t I figure this out before’ kind of way.

Apparently this is not Rob’s entire plan, though. And Gary is not complaining when Rob’s hand leave his cock because before he could say anything, Rob’s getting rid of his trousers, pants, shoes and socks impressively quickly. The room is lightened by the dim light coming from the window and Rob can see him. So Gary’s completely naked now, completely naked and pliant on that bed and Rob can see him. And Gary feels vulnerable but is not a bad thing. It’s not a bad feeling and that is sort of frightening. Rob having this kind of control over his emotions; to the point where he’s making Gary feel something that always terrified him, that helplessness, and using it to turn him on this ardently.

And, again, he was about to open his mouth to do something else other than groan but he can’t. Rob’s incredibly softly kissing his inner thighs, taking his time to appreciate just how much Gary’s enjoying that touch. Because he is and he’s letting Rob know with every loud gasp and automatic reaction of his body he can’t even attempt to control. He can’t even close his eyes and give into it because the display that is Rob between his fully naked legs is something he doesn’t want to miss for the world. It’s new and the uncertainty is inexplicable and he should probably process this, should remember that long lost idea of taking it slow but he can’t remember a good reason to do so right now. Not when Rob’s getting so close and being so shameless and gorgeous and so close to---

Gary cries a helpless sound when Rob’s mouth is taking him in before anything else could happen. Before he said anything. Without any kind of warning. Not that Gary would ever be prepared for that. The wet and warm feeling of Rob’s mouth sucking him in, his tongue playing with the shaft of his prick and the image of his cheeks so full he can see the outline of his dick against them. “Shit, Rob---” he plaints absolutely mesmerized and so far gone he can barely process what’s going on. One of Rob’s hand is working him while Rob’s eating him as far as he can go and Gary decides this; exactly _this_ , is the picture he’s going to remember the next time he’s alone. He’s sure he’s never seen anything hotter. More… well, damn straight _obscene_.

It’s all so… _much_. He’s had blowjobs before but just like being wanked off by Rob didn’t feel like all the other times, this feels like a first. Objectively Gary knows it’s ridiculous, but he can’t be bothered with being impartial right now. Not when Rob’s taking him deeper and moaning while doing it, like this is pleasuring him as well. Like sucking Gary and making him almost squirm of pleasure is also turning him on _that_ much. Not when Rob’s not stopping and when his other hand is finding its way between his legs, cupping and rubbing Gary’s sack and---

“God-- Rob, stop.” Gary yelps, against everything his body wants. He just yelps opening his eyes looking at Rob. _Shit._ Rob with his mouth full. _A mouth full of Gary_. And Rob’s looking at him not interested in stopping either, especially when Gary has to close his eyes again before letting out a heavy moan because his entire body is dancing to those damn waves of pleasure concentrating in his lower tummy. Gary knows what that is and he needs Rob to stop because--- “Fuck, Rob--- Stop or this will be over soon.” Gary explains with the little air he can manage to gather in his lungs. _Embarrassingly soon_ , he corrects himself in his own head.

Rob’s mouth is suddenly empty but his hands are still working on Gary. “Come on--” Robs voice sounds rough and Gary did that and he shouldn’t feel this proud about that. But he really does, it turns out. “Just let go.” Rob adds almost panting, shaking his head and smiling, like he’s amused with Gary’s request. “Let me see you come—shit, come on,” he not so much asks but demands and it’s all too much. Really, too damn much. The visual, the order, the need, the feeling, Rob’s lips sucking him whole again and just, _fuck._ Rob. It’s all--- just, _so damn much_ that even if Gary doesn’t want this to end he can barely do anything about it before he’s helplessly trying to grabs Rob’s attention with a hand on his cheek, a gesture sweeter than he anticipated. Rob doesn’t stop for a second and when he understands what Gary’s trying to tell him he only sucks harder, deeper and mercilessly. And he doesn’t stop, not until Gary’s right on the edge and his hips are helplessly jerking up and, fuck, Rob’s letting him. He’s not stopping his movements, he’s simply taking it and the entire thing becomes too overwhelming for Gary, in the best possible way. He feels his toes curling and those waves are crashing in only one place now, flowing inexplicably and---before he knows it, Rob’s lips are letting him lose and Gary’s coming mostly on his belly but also between Rob’s fingers.

Gary’s grabbing the sheets with firm fists because he feels like he needs to hold on to something, like otherwise he would fly. Or fall off. Or embarrass himself. Or something. Or everything together. He’s biting his lips while he helplessly pants. He feels his cock throbbing, moist and slippery between Rob’s fingers while he’s walking him through the last path of his orgasm. And it’s messy, desperate, sloppy and--- _perfect_.

Or, well, not absolutely perfect _yet_.

Gary feels dizzy and content but not really satisfied. Not fully. There’s something else he needs to do. This is a very important part of every single one of his fantasies, because none of them end with his orgasm, not really. And as long as he’s fulfilling those daydreams he might as well do it properly. Right?

He moves from his back, enough to be able to grab Rob’s arm and set him on top of him again; their lips finding each other in a less frantic but equally thorough kiss. Rob tastes salty and a little bitter and before Gary realizes it, he’s moaning because he understands what that taste is. _Him._ He tastes himself in Rob’s mouth and he never thought that would feel so stimulating. It should feel wrong or dirty. Or, well, maybe that’s part of the appeal. Definitely learning a lot today, he is.

And that realization serves as fuel, too. Not that Gary needs incentive at this point, really. But he figures he needs something to put behind all the insecurities that come with doing _this_ for someone else for the first time and this is as good impulse as any. “Off.” He finds himself saying once one of his hands is desperately pulling off Rob’s trousers. Rob laughs but it’s a nice laugh, one that comes with his own share of madness. Gary knows Rob’s about to say something cheeky so he decides to bite his lower lips and let his fingers dance around Rob’s very full and very obvious erection covered by the fabric. “Take them off, Rob” he instructs and Rob’s not laughing anymore so Gary will consider it a win.

Rob’s not on top of him anymore either, but only because he got off the bed to get rid of the clothes. And it’s anything but slow or graceful. And Gary’s the one laughing now, but loving it. He thinks he hasn’t enjoyed anything in the world more than seeing that kind of need on Rob.

Oh, yes. _Definitely a win_.

Gary finds himself in absolute awe. Rob is a sight. He is… _wow._ If Gary liked what he saw with clothes on, right now he is absolutely marveled. And unable to move as well. Rob was wearing white boxer briefs that complemented amazingly with his tanned skin and left little to none to the imagination. Gary might be gasping. Rob skin is tanned in the perfect way, and Gary has to ask about that, he thinks. How can he be tanned when it’s around 50 degrees outside. He realizes then that he has no idea where Rob’s from. Maybe he’s from the coast. Oh god, Gary doesn’t even know Rob’s last name and he’s ready to let him do whatever he pleases with him. He could be freaking out about that. He reckons he really could. Only he’s not. He doesn’t have time for that because they are both fully naked now and Rob’s looking at him with such hunger in his eyes it’s almost invasive in a way that leaves Gary ready to cry for the closeness again, to feel Rob’s sweet warm against his skin again. So he’ll ask later. Later is good. Later is perfect. There are more pressing matters now.

Gary manages to mutter a fainted _‘Fuck’_ before he’s grabbing Rob back to the bed, to kiss him again, to press their chest together, and to feel Rob’s erection against his much calmer crotch now. And it’s good. It really is. But there’s a problem, sort of. Gary cannot positively think about enjoying this before he does that one other thing he wanted to do to make this feel properly perfect. So he doesn’t take much time really to savor the closeness again, not before his hand finds its way to Rob’s cock. Gary… he wants to be _good_. That’s the thing. He has no damn clue unto what he’s doing but he wants to do this the best he can. And he would laugh about that, because that’s how he always approaches everything in life. He had no idea how to play the piano when his mother bought him his first one, but he jumped right into it until he found himself learning everything he could before he thought he needed an instructor; he had no clue how to hook the first sound system he bought for his flat back in Oxford but he learnt how to do that as well; and now he has no idea how to do this with someone else, but his hands are wrapped around Rob’s erection anyways.

He has a big advantage, he figures. He only has to think about what he likes to do with himself and translate that to what he’s doing for Rob. Thinking about that makes this easier; makes him a bit more confident. And if that weren’t enough… well, the sounds emanating from Rob’s mouth should serve as such.

Or the way he’s grasping Gary’s shoulders. Or the way he’s biting Gary’s neck. Or the way his nails are definitely going to leave crescent marks on his skin when Gary twists his grip on Rob’s dick only a little.

“Don’t—don’t stop, please—Fuck, I thought about you doing this to me when I saw your hands working that stupid piano—but this is so much better.” Or, well, Rob fighting for enough air to say that would work too.

“Did you say _stupid piano_?” Gary teases, suddenly letting his hand stop the movement on Rob. “That’s not very nice, you know?” Gary smiles and gives only one very insufficient tug on Rob’s prick, but only for good measure and to drive his point across. Rob lets a very annoyed, almost animalistic growl leave his lips and Gary searches for his eyes.

“Fine! That piano is the smartest piano in the world, baby—nothing stupid about that old thing.” Rob mumbles and his hand is now on Gary’s, trying to force it to move again.

But Gary’s enjoying this a bit too much so he bats it away. “Not good enough.”

“I jerked off thinking about your hands playing that big ass piano;” Rob says determined, eyes fixed on Gary’s. “I came really fucking hard thinking about you being that skilled on me—in me---all over me;” he bites on Gary’s shoulder for emphasis before asking “is _that_ good enough?” and, yeah, that does it.

Because of course is good enough.

And if Gary wasn’t too busy moaning at Rob’s words and letting his hand go back to what it was doing before, he would have said so. But no, Rob was very successful at shutting Gary up.

Instead he focuses on grabbing Rob with a tighter grip and finding the rhythm that’s working on Rob. He focuses on licking the crook of his neck, the line of his collarbones and the inner sensitive side of his upper arm; he focuses on repeating every little thing that’s making Rob whimper and move his hips very unceremoniously against Gary’s hand.

And he doesn’t stop, not until he can feel it in his hands. Until Rob is coming between his fingers with a loud moan and his body is slowly relaxing under Gary’s. He hides his face on Rob’s chest where he can hear his heartbeats and closes his eyes.

And yes. Now it is. Perfect.

“That was…” Gary starts taking, only he cannot figure out what to say because even though he usually is really good with words now he feels out of them. “Fuck, that was—“ Right. No proper sentences, apparently.

“Yeah.” Rob agrees. And maybe he understands, Gary reckons. Only he has no idea how he could, but for a second he lets himself believe he understands how overwhelming this is for Gary. Maybe, as he’s already being delusional, he lets himself think that maybe it was amazing for Rob too.

“Sorry, it’s just that I’ve never…” and once more, Gary doesn’t finish that sentence. But this one he thinks he doesn’t have to finish for Rob to get it. Rob must’ve figured that this was Gary’s first time at a lot of things. “I’m a right mess” Gary admits and laughs at himself hiding his face on Rob’s neck. No need to pretend he is not a right mess, not when he’s not able to finish a goddamn sentence and not only because he hasn’t recover his normal breathing pace yet. Not when he’s still dirty, not bothered and so obviously up for more. A lot more.

Rob laughs too but he tightens his arms around Gary, keeping him close even though they are both disgusting. He lets out a sigh that Gary considers it to sound a bit too intimate and he can help but wonder if he’s losing his mind. Firstly, because they just came together so maybe intimacy shouldn’t bother him, even though he was sure that Rob wouldn’t waste two seconds before he kicked him out once his orgasm was done. And second, because he properly liked that. So much so he really gave into Rob’s arms and didn’t even dare to open his eyes.

“You are a fucking menace, aren’t you?” Rob almost whispers in what really sounds like a defeated tone. One that Gary has no idea what to do with. So instead, he kisses Rob’s neck and decides he needs to… do something else.

Kissing him, because apparently he can’t stop now, Gary finds his way out of Rob’s grip and goes for what looks like an old towel on the floor to clean themselves with. It’s slightly damped so it might’ve been used not too long ago. Rob doesn’t say anything, not when Gary’s cleaning his hand and his chest and he doesn’t say anything when Gary’s using that same towel to clean Rob as well. And there it is again, that sort of intimate feeling. Like this is something Gary shouldn’t be doing for Rob, considering they met not only a week ago.

But Rob still doesn’t say anything, only takes that towel away from him, throwing it somewhere on the floor again and grabs Gary’s hand to pull him on the bed again. And Gary takes that as a silent “it’s fine, stop overthinking everything.” Yes… maybe he should. Probably. So he decides to do that and lay next to Rob, close enough that he can feel Rob’s warmth but only their legs touching.

“I thought you weren’t going to show up today” Gary says after a while, when the air feels a little less heavy.

“I…” Rob seems to hesitate but ends up moving his head slightly to look at him with a small but earnest smile on his face. “I thought about it.”

“Not a big fan of coffee?” Gary asks, angling his body a bit over the mattress so he can look at Rob comfortably.

“Not exactly;” Rob answers and he sighs. Gary realizes that everything in Rob seems different now. Not in a bad way. It’s just that it looks like he’s willing to talk with honesty and Gary can’t help but think in that metaphor and that damn curtain. Maybe this is Rob, the real Rob, saying something that Gary needs to really pay attention to. “You do things to me…” Rob starts saying but abruptly shuts up. Like he realized what he was doing.

Alright… this not going to be easy. Rob’s not going to make this easy. Whatever ‘this’ is. But Gary figured that much before they found themselves naked on Rob’s bed. So…

“Hopefully not bad things;” Gary stops and thinks. He only nods and decides not to lie or pretend. He’s shit at that anyways “although if I have to take your expression as guidance I wouldn’t really be so hopeful.” He playfully uses the tip of his index finger to soothe Rob’s suddenly tense crease between his eyes.

Rob weakly laughs at that but grabs Gary’s hand and holds it over his own chest. “It depends on what your definition of ‘bad things’ is.” Rob says insightfully; eyes fixated on the ceiling now. He almost sounds like he’s thinking out loud. Gary doesn’t really follow what he’s getting at, but somehow he understand this is hardly the moment to try and do that.

He can’t help but feel that any sudden movement could scare this straightforward version of Rob. And Gary desperately doesn’t want to do that. He knows he shouldn’t care that much either. They gave each other an orgasm, that’s the extent of this. But still, he cares. He still wants to find out if what he sees in Rob is really there. If there’s _more_.

Will he even be able to do that? Maybe Rob thinks his job here is done. Maybe Rob’s ready to ask him to leave. Maybe Gary should leave before Rob has the time to that. Maybe he should ask.

“Should I, ahm…” so he starts. Or, well, _tries_. “I don’t know what the protocol is here” he excuses himself, maybe tacitly asking for a bit of help.

“Protocol?” Rob sounds amused now and his eyes go straight back to Gary. And of course he’s not helping. “That sounds very formal for someone who was fucking my mouth not 30 minutes ago.”

“ _Lord!_ ” Gary might be impossibly blushed right now. And he might be using both of his hands to hide his face only so Rob doesn’t see that. Not that he’s ashamed, not really. If Rob’s delighted tone serves as hint, they both enjoyed it so there is no reason to be ashamed. It’s just that Gary is anything but used to… well, _anyone_ being this forward. “You know what I mean.” He protests, still hiding behind his hands.

Rob laughs again and goes for both of Gary’s hands to remove them from where they are. “Just stay, Gary.” He calmly says and shakes his head smiling and getting closer to Gary again, kissing his lips. “Just fucking stay.” He repeats in a tone that sounds more like ‘I’m not done with you’ than anything else. And Gary might agree with that. They are not done here.

“Alright;” Gary agrees in the middle of another kiss.

“We can order pizza.” Rob suggests without completely breaking the kiss and Gary mainly hums in agreement.

Sure. That sounds like an acceptable plan.

 

***

 

_This was a mistake. This was a colossal blimp-sized fucking mistake._

It’s been twenty four hours and Gary’s still here, with him, in his dorm. Twenty four hours, two peperoni pizzas, three movies they didn’t pay shit attention to, two episodes of this new series called The Nanny that Gary assured would be fun (it was, Rob admits), countless cups of tea (he has to thank Mark for even having that in their kitchen) and around thirteen orgasms each, more or less, not that Rob’s counting. Only he absolutely is. Because _fuck_ yes, the orgasms were amazing. The one in the shower was in the competition to being the best one so far. Gary’s face lighting up like fucking sunshine when Rob surprised him dropping down on his knees made it amazing, he considers. But the one on the couch while they watched some shitty late night talk show, _oh,_ that one was definitely Rob’s favorite. Mainly because Gary started the action kissing almost timidly his bare naked thighs where his head was resting, and also because that was the first time Gary sucked him and even though he was inexperienced and sloppy, he abso-fucking-lutely made up for it in eagerness. _Hell, he is hot._ Plus, according to the second blowjob courtesy of _Gary Barlow_ this morning, Rob can tell that the English boy is for sure a fast learner.

Oh, yeah. _Barlow_. That’s Gary’s last name. And Rob knows that now because aside from kissing, licking, biting, sucking, touching and groping; they also talked a lot. _A lot_ a lot. Well, Gary did most of the talking. He talked about his life, about London, about his family and friends, about his studies, about art, music, his silly obsession with Star Wars and how much he loves musical theater. He talked about so many things… and Rob listened.

They laughed and goofed around and talked. And Rob _listened_ , alright? He paid attention, honestly interested because Gary is really fucking fascinating. Plus, he looks especially hot when he talks about something he’s passionate about, like how he looked when he was playing that gorgeous old piano. The guy makes _beautiful_ and actual adjective Rob is assigning to someone that he wants to fuck like there’s no tomorrow, and he’s sure _that_ never happened before. And that’s very weird, that he even recognizes any of that in Gary. That is not something he does with temporary fucks. Or temporary whatever, because they didn’t technically fuck even though he feels pretty worn out.

And Gary has a way of… making Rob talk as well. At first Rob didn’t even notice, and then he simply gave into it. Wasn’t _that_ bad, was it? It’s just talking and sharing things he might share with, say, _friends_. Even though Gary and him are not friends, he gets that. Still, he found himself telling Gary a lot of things. _Personal_ things. Like about his rotten parents and why he’s studying what he’s studying; or about Mark and how much he adores the little shit; about the band and how Jason ended up being their manager but also a bit the therapist of the band; or how, even if Howard is the one he fights with the most, he’s also the one who makes Rob feel a weird sense of security around; or simply how much he loves Elvis Presley and how he was so obsessed with him in high school, he actually dressed as The King for several Halloweens. Things that his best friends know but definitely not something he would tell to someone he was planning on spending only a limited time with.

But they are _not_ friends. They probably never will. He reminds himself that at least once every hour that passes next to him.

And he’s on his twenty-fifth hour shared with Gary and he’s anything but ready to kick him out of his dorm. _That_ is what makes this a mistake. That Rob let Gary go through his cassettes and VHS collection and loved the fact that Gary got all worked up and excited when he found something that he liked too. And that he actually loves a little bit too much making Gary smile or laugh one of those big laughs that occupy every muscle of his face. Or the fact that he is still _interested_ ; period. That he actually doesn’t care if Gary’s not ready to let Rob fuck him yet, he feels content and satisfied either way. Not that he doesn’t want to, please. He’d be completely naked, lubed and/or with a condom on him in a second if Gary gave the green light. But that doesn’t change the fact that he’s content, lying in bed with certain ridiculously good looking blonde wrapped around his body, watching ‘Labyrinth’ because Gary asked what Rob’s favorite movie was and decided they needed to watch it before dinner.

And that is some scary shit to be sharing, Rob thinks. Sharing personal things with this guy that’s slowly but surely getting under his skin. This guy that’s making him open up before Rob can even stop to do some damage control. Mostly, before he can stop himself altogether _. Shit._ They even slept together. Rob hasn’t actually _slept_ with anyone in years.

Rob knows that his past should be enough evidence for him to fucking get through his thick skull that he can’t afford to let himself, well, _enjoy_ whatever _this_ is _this_ much. Maybe he should end this now, before is too late. Only he won’t, he knows.

And somehow and for some reason Rob couldn’t comprehend, he didn’t give enough of a fuck. Of course he thinks about it, freaks about it when he thinks Gary isn’t paying attention. But he just… doesn’t _do_ anything about it.

But he makes a deal with himself instead. He will end this, _soon_. When Gary eventually leaves this apartment, then that will be it. No more sharing, talking, no more contact and no more orgasms.

That will be fucking _it_.

And that’s what keeps him calm. Or, well, at least he’s not freaking out as much as he was when he woke up next to Gary and kissed him good morning, without even thinking what he was doing, without even realizing how romantic it felt and how much he liked it.

Everything is _fucking_ fine, he repeats himself over and over, because this will end before is too late and Rob won’t have his heart involved in this sure-to-be mess.

 

For now, here they are; Rob’s favorite movie on the TV and this dangerous British hottie resting his head on Rob’s shoulder, legs a tangled mess and the quilt covering their naked bodies, protecting them from the chill outside this bed. Rob’s attention was mainly on ‘Labyrinth’ but sometimes it drifted back to Gary, sharing laughs, comments and singing together some of their favorite parts. And it was… strangely alright. He felt… well, comfortable. He felt satisfied, relaxed and happy in this little moment they were sharing. So much so that he found himself resting his hand on Gary’s chest; in an intimate way, a way Rob really liked. He found himself smiling and sighing at that and the sudden feeling of Gary’s heartbeats on Rob’s palm ended up waking him up.

“If you so much dare tell me Bowie is not the hottest fucking thing as Jareth, I’m kicking you out of bed.” Rob lets out determined not so much to make a stand as he is to stop himself from thinking about this perfect moment. He desperately wanted to let himself feel these things, but he was still fighting it. It was the best thing in the long run. Fight that need hard.

Gary cackles, probably because he didn’t see a comment like that coming, considering they’ve been watching the movie without speaking, only opening their mouths to lazily sing some of the tunes. “I wouldn’t dare question the duke’s appeal, trust me;” he says in very neat and serious tone, in-joke. “Although I have to admit that thinking about the Goblin King that way makes me feel ghastly.” Gary admitted.

“Why’s that?” Rob asks curious, his sight focused only on Gary now.

“First time I saw the movie I was fifteen?” Gary starts explaining “Went with my friend Bambi to see it and I always associate the character with a very innocent part of my life, I guess… it feels odd to think about it in a sexual way.” He wrinkles his nose in an expression that is so fucking adorable, Rob wants to kiss it. So he does.

“Yeah, but you were fifteen.” Rob says after the quick kiss, laughing a little because it doesn’t make much sense, Rob thinks. “Not really a kid anymore, were you?” Rob remembers very well the year he was fifteen and how he was already sexually active. And that meant he pretty much wanted to fuck everything that moved, including Mr. Bowie and his distinguished yet fucking cool _pirate-sque_ look back then.

“No, I know. It still feels weird.” Gary admits and his expression looks almost thoughtful right now, like he’s remembering, going back to those times in his own head. So, naturally, Rob can’t help but smile and raise his eyebrows waiting for him to finish. “I was a late bloomer, probably?” he shyly guesses out loud.

 _Adorable_ , Rob thinks. And yeah, Rob’s ready to eat him. Not literally. Or maybe literally. He wouldn’t mind eating Gary with his favorite movie as background noise. He’s willing to let go of the fact that someone being adorable is making him think beautifully dirty thoughts. Because that makes no sense; ‘adorable’ was never a turn on for him. Then again, here they are; Gary being innocently adorable and Rob thinking about blowjobs. “Such an innocent boy” Rob decides to tease, grabbing Gary’s nose with two fingers.

“Wanker” Gary bats his hand away and laughs slightly through his cuss, making it sound way more fond than he wanted, Rob is sure. “I remember I was absolutely enamored with the costume design of the movie, though. Still am, I guess…” Gary changes the subject, sort of and then Rob laughs loudly.

“I’m not even gonna comment on that, buddy” Because, honestly. Could he be more of a cliché? Even if he didn’t know it back then.

That still blows Rob’s mind. The fact that Gary wasn’t aware that he liked dick until he met Rob. Rob had to ask for details about that, he couldn’t help himself. Still can’t believe that someone that sucked his cock with so much enthusiasm didn’t know until, what? a little bit more than a week ago? Yes, that might turn him on too. Like a lot. He never thought he would, but he likes being the first. He fucking really likes a whole lot having Gary beg for it with glassy eyes and a full erection knowing that he never showed any other dude that part of himself. Yes. _Shit._

“Really, sod off.” Gary rolls his eyes and pushes Rob a little, pointlessly because he’s not really pushing him away or anything; he only does it for emphasis and Rob has to laugh again. There’s a moment of silence where they both go back to the movie but then Gary’s talking again, same thoughtful tone he was using before on tow; “I also remember that I ran to the closest record store to buy the Labyrinth soundtrack as soon as I got out of the cinema.” His eyes don’t move from the TV but Rob can’t seem to look at anything other than Gary. He has that look on his face; _that one_ he uses when he’s talking about something he somehow cherishes. Rob hates the fact that he can recognize that. But also, doesn’t hate it at all. “I think I understand _why_ this one’s your favorite film.” He smiles, eyes still glued to the movie and Rob can’t help but smile.

Even though he explained to Gary that this was his favorite movie because he saw it first with his sisters and it was sort of like this stupid beautiful and ridiculous thing they always shared, Rob is kind of enchanted (worryingly so) by the fact that Gary read more into it. Of course he loved this movie because of the nostalgia and because this is the one thing him and his sisters never fight over; the one movie they always agree to watch when they get together. But also loves it because of what it represents to him. Because of how good it is and how it opened his eyes in so many ways; artistically and personally. And it was fucking ridiculous and insane and Rob knew it was fucking pathetic but he saw that in Gary shy comment and content smile. Like he _got_ that. That little part Rob was leaving out of his explanation for liking this movie because it meant opening up about something personal. And after all the sharing he did, he was trying to avoid doing that again. But, apparently, Gary was determined not to let him.

Or maybe he didn’t understand shit and Rob was just fucking tripping.

 _Whatever_. He needed to change the subject, he realized.

“How about you? Your favorite movie?” Rob ended up asking. Yes, shifting the attention to Gary was a safe bet. Right?

“Oh, tough one;” Gary thought out loud with the most ridiculous pondering expression Rob’s ever seen for such a simple question. He kinda wanted to punch Gary. Or kiss him. Or probably do both. “I don’t have one from when I was a kid. Loads I adore but none I consider my favorite in that sense, you know?” Makes sense, him clearing that, considering what Rob’s reasons for liking ‘Labyrinth’ so much were (the ones that he voiced anyways). Also it was not the point of Rob’s question, but Gary was getting somewhere, so Rob lets him finish to see where he’s going. “But I do have one… and it’s been my ultimate favorite since I first saw it when I was around seventeen?” He says lowering his sight now and then turning to Rob. He looks almost shy about it and that only awakens Rob curiosity even more. He simply nods, waiting and Gary is now smiling and looking at him with an expression that Rob’s sure it’s supposed to be threatening but doesn’t quite look like it. “And I know it’s going to sound absolutely pretentious but you can’t call me on that, alright?” Gary finally warns.

“I--- can’t and, most important, won’t promise you that” Rob assures him in the most serious tone he has, biting his lips so he doesn’t smile through it.

Gary simply sighs not entirely satisfied. He speaks anyways; “42nd street” he says and, yeah, that means nothing to Rob. He only blinks at Gary saying exactly that without words and so he continues. “It’s a musical from the early ‘30s about the Great Depression and the social and economic hit it took on Broadway and the NY theater scene in general;” And yes, ok, Rob wants to fuck the most ridiculously hot looking nerd he’s ever met. Rob can’t help but smile wide, keeping his expression as friendly as humanly possible, considering. He wants Gary to keep explaining about this musical and if he laughs Gary will for sure cut his explanation short. But Rob is proud of himself, because Gary doesn’t seem to notice when he keeps talking with a bit more enthusiasm now that he sees that Rob’s not calling him a dork; “Is musical brilliance with an _Art Noveau_ aesthetic and a surrealist vibe. It worked as such a breakthrough piece for Broadway and it’s incredibly ahead of its time--- so much that it’s still relevant nowadays.” He says like it’s something that Rob should even understand.

Right. Well. Rob finally laughs. But it’s a soft laugh, because he’s fucking enchanted. Where the fuck did this sexy piece of artsy-nerd ass came from? Fuck. “Wow” is all Rob manages to say in between that long laugh.

“I know, suddenly you are realizing I’m a dork.” Gary guesses like that is obviously what Rob’s thinking.

“And a bit of a nerd;” Rob adds, smiling jokingly. “Pretentious nerd, maybe?” he corrects himself.

“Oi!” Gary protests and, at that, Rob chuckles loudly because Gary’s looking like a wounded puppy but putting a lot of effort into looking outraged.

“I’m just fucking with you” Rob can’t help but clarify because--- shit. He can’t let Gary go on thinking that the fact that he likes what sounds like a really boring but profound movie is something to be ashamed of. Or that Rob thinks it is. No, fuck that. It’s actually perfect. Of course his favorite movie is not Die Hard or any obviously dude-like shit like that. Of course is not some awesome blockbuster bullshit either. It’s a movie that means something and one that he appreciates because of its artistic and social value or whatever it was that Gary said. It’s perfect and Rob can’t stand it. It makes this person right next to him more surreal and real at the same time, and Rob’s fucking sure that doesn’t make any damn sense and he doesn’t give a crap.

He just gives Gary a kiss. A sweet, slow and deep kiss he can’t even avoid smile through. “In fact, I’m starting to think there’s nothing about you that is not attractive and that is fucking infuriating.” He admits almost whispering in Gary’s lips. It feels like he should be whispering, because he’s being a dumbass. Rob feels absolutely taken away by the realization that… Yes, Gary is fucking perfect, isn’t he? He’s perfect and he was sent here to destroy Rob. That’s the truth behind all this horsefuckery.

Rob’s arms tense around Gary now, hugging him closer and can’t help but shake his head kind of defeated. “You’re ridiculous, you know that? Couldn’t you just try to be a douche once in a while?” He almost sounds like he’s begging. But he’s not, alright? Ok, maybe a little. That would make all of this so fucking _simpler_.

“I can try and kick a puppy or something” Gary proposes with no seriousness what so ever and, yeah, he’s not helping with that silly smile he’s sending Rob’s way. Rob shakes his head with more fondness than exasperation. He really wants to be exasperated. He swears to Lucifer or fucking Odin or whoever he’d really like to be irritated with how much he likes everything Gary decides to do or be. But truth is; he’s more bothered by himself for freaking out again. Only in is head this time, though; because he’s keeping his thoughts hidden while pretending to bring his attention back to the movie; but freaking out nonetheless.

“Or I can show you the movie I’m talking about;” Gary suddenly proposes, waking Rob up from his own nightmare to look at him a little lost. “You know, sometime… whenever;” And now Gary looks a bit nervous and… isn’t that sweetly naive? That he thinks there is going to be an _whenever_ in their future and that he is the one nervous when… well, what he is proposing sounds like a fucking perfect plan to Rob. That is, if he’d be planning on seeing Gary again after this. Which he is _not_. “I mean, I don’t have a copy of it here, but I’m sure I can find one.” Gary smiles, still visibly worried but with honesty; “that way you’ll see it’s a pretentious piece of art dressed as a musical and that I know every single lyric and line of the script. I’m sure that’s going to turn you off in a heartbeat.” Gary finishes playfully but also kind of timidly, like he’s afraid Rob would say no. And Rob smiles and shakes his head again, in disbelieve at this point. Either he is a clueless son of a bitch or he’s really good at playing his cards.

Whatever it is, Rob’s… alright with it. Because whatever they are doing has an expiration date. _Right?_

And that thought gives Rob some comfort, so he manages to smile dubiously and say “Well, what are you saying? That me knowing every single dialogue and song in ‘Labyrinth’ is a turn off?” Rob pretends to be offended but just taking the piss out of Gary, clearly.

“Not one bit” Gary answers without a single second of doubt and with such… honesty. It kind of catches Rob out of guard that Gary’s looking at him with such tenderness in his eyes when he says that, like he’s saying he likes that Rob’s a bit of a nerd too. _Shit. This guy is a fucking threat._

“Fine, then.” He answers more determined than anything and is not really that he’s trying to be a dick, he really is not fucking trying, ok? “I accept the invitation.” He’s not trying but he is being one anyways, because he is accepting to something he knows _won’t_ fucking happen. Making a plan with a very thrilled looking Gary that he knows _won’t_ happen ever. “If anything I’ll find you less charming and at this point, I think it’ll be a good thing.” That part is honest. That part is absolutely and painfully honest because right now he wishes Gary could do something to make him feel less of an ass. He just lied to Gary and he feels like shit.

It’s not like Rob hasn’t lied to dudes before. Or chicks. Or whoever he’s fucking at that moment. He’s lied a lot, more than he’s told the truth really. And he never, not once, felt bad about it. He always figured it was what it was; what needed to be said not to get himself into a weird situation. Then he wouldn’t call again or the other person would lose interest before Rob could be the one dismissing them.

And now he feels like shit because he made a promise he can’t keep. Which makes _no sense_.

And he won’t question why. He just won’t. Can’t afford to ask himself why and, besides, it’s pointless. So he better change the subject. _Pretty fucking quick_.

“Want something to eat?” Yes, that sounds like a safe enough question, Rob thinks.

“Sure” Gary answers naturally, nodding just a little and his attention back on the TV screen. Oblivious. So beautifully unaware. Ugh. _Fuck_.

Rob just needs to kiss his lips again; deep and thoroughly this time. So he does. And Gary kisses him back with such determination, Rob sighs heavily into the kiss.

It’s a great kiss. Best one yet.

It only makes him feel like a fucking asshole.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Come talk to me on [Tumblr](http://marea707.tumblr.com/) (:  
> [This](http://marea707.tumblr.com/tagged/rpg%3A-uni-au) is the tag I have specially for this au. Also, started [another one](http://marea707.tumblr.com/tagged/fic%3A-1993) particularly for the fic. I might organize my tags at some point.


	5. As The World Falls Down

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> More intimacy, some dealing and a lot of avoiding. 'Let's enjoy this before I destroy it' is quickly becoming Rob's mantra.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heeey. Still there? :$  
> This chapter took me _soooo_ long to finish. I’m sorry about that. First, I’m no longer on vacation so, there’s that. And also, something happened to me while writing it. Won’t bother you with details but I found myself redefining a lot of things I had in mind for the future of this fic. Now that I have that a bit clearer in my head, the next chapters might come sooner?
> 
> There is a lot more smut in this chapter than I thought it would be. Smut is not my forte, really (language barriers and all that jazz) but it’s sort of like the smutty parts are needed for understanding certain feelings of certain character and, anyway, I’m sorry if it’s a little dreadful to read. Hopefully not, tho.
> 
> FYI, no spoilers but the worst is still to come, fear not. 
> 
> Title from the beautiful song written by David Bowie for the soundtrack of Labyrinth (yes, again, let me be, alright? This movie is so important in life)
> 
> Now, the **thank yous** (:  
>  Thanx [Libby](http://elerinwen.tumblr.com/), as always, for betaing, for creating this AU with me and, let's be honest, for helping sort out my head through this chapter.  
> Thank you everyone for the feedback, for the kudos and the couple of (very constructive and polite) criticism I received. I will only ask to keep them coming, pretty please? *hides*

“Food, then?” Gary asks casually while the ending credits for Labyrinth are scrolling down on the TV screen.

He asked it with the most natural voice, he notices. There’s really only one reason for his voice to be so naturally tamed considering that he is anything but, deep down. Not because he has great control over his emotions; which usually is the case but, as it turns out, not when Rob’s around. And no, he won’t think about what that means, too soon for that. Cheers.

 _Anyhow_. No. The reason is, well. Because he _feels_ comfortable. They are almost snuggling unnecessarily close under the sheets; Rob’s chest glued to Gary’s back and his arms wrapping him close in a way that could feel suggestive in description but it only translates as _lovely_ in actuality. Gary feels cozy and he knows there’s more than one problem with this. With how piss-easy they found each other in this place of contentment sharing something that, honestly, if they were only having sex shouldn’t feel necessary at all.

But that’s what they are doing, right? Sex. Or sexual things. Exploring each other’s bodies. That’s what this is. Even if Gary thinks the whole _thing_ feels too intense to simplify it that way. Even if maybe Gary _wants_ more than that.

Yes, of course he wants more. If he wanted _that_ since the first time he kissed Rob; then he wanted _more than that_ since after he played the piano for Rob, since that stupid analogy of the curtain came into play and Rob looked at him with those big honest eyes for the first time.

Mainly, Gary thinks, this is problematic because he can’t convince himself that Rob would ever want the same thing. That _more than that_ thing, right?

But, again; too soon for that.

On the other hand, he hasn’t left Rob’s dorm for almost an entire day now. Not because he is being needy or clingy, but because Rob invited him to stay. Because Rob is the one that insisted on Gary staying overnight and then for a shower and a movie that ended up being more than one shower, more than one movie and… other things; loads of _other things._ And yes, it’s been absolutely and entirely ridiculous. Gary knows that. He also knows that’s it has been _all that_ but in the most wonderful way. To be fair, in a way he didn’t even imagine when he invited Rob to have a cup of coffee together more than a day ago. That long forgotten coffee.

And Rob is... out of his league, Gary thinks, that’s the thing. Not that Gary has a low ego, he never did and he’s not starting now. But he can recognize when someone is impressive, magnificent, interesting, charming, funny, gorgeous and caring. He’s honest about who he is and what he likes and he’s as unapologetic as no one Gary’s every met. And Rob is all of those things, embedded in someone that is completely reluctant to let anyone see the deepest parts of it. There is a puny possibility that he doesn’t want _Gary_ (specifically) to see that, he considers. But on the other hand he doesn’t think himself that important in Rob’s mind, honestly. Again; not that he has low self-esteem but because he likes to be a realist most of the times. And that is reality, isn’t it?

Sure, they shared a lot of things since they first crossed Rob’s door. Aside from… _dear_ , some marvelous orgasms that Gary still get flustered and blushed over. _Good lord those were incredible orgasms._ He wants to share a lot more, dozens worth of more. He gets a tad dizzy when he thinks about _how much_ he wants to have more of those with Rob. Literally dizzy. The need so pressing he has to force himself to find some self-control. Failing miserably, mostly.

Not that Rob has complained about it. Honestly, he has done anything but. And it’s not like Rob has moderated himself either. Or at least it doesn’t look like it. It looks like every time he wants to drive Gary crazy he simply does it without a second thought or insecurity perturbing him. _Oh no_ , Rob is very blunt about how much he wants him, never losing a single opportunity. With a hand on his heart, Gary is profoundly and _oh-so_ thankful for that.

Extremely thankful. Because right now Gary is immersed in this magnificent mist of pleasure and satisfaction that is _RobRobRob_ and he genuinely feels he hasn’t enjoyed anything more in his lifetime than coming with Rob or having a lot of his first experiences with him.

Like, say, his first blowjob. _Dear. Lord._ He thought he would never like that, he actually wasn’t even a fan of girls doing that for him. He always thought it was _alright_ , but nothing to lose one’s mind over. But with Rob is… Ok, Gary might be a bit obsessed with sucking Rob and figures he should be ashamed of how much he likes it, but it’s hard when Rob’s been so vocal about how much he likes to see Gary’s lips trapping his hardness. _Shit_ , thinking about that gets Gary’s blood pumping again. About how much Rob likes being outspoken and loud about what he _enjoys_.

That wasn’t the point, was it? No. The point was that they’ve been doing a lot more than sharing the bliss of passion together. Even though he doesn’t think he’s that relevant in Rob’s head, he still has to acknowledge what’s been happening between the walls of this apartment. They’ve been talking, sharing, laughing, kissing, and being sweet to each other in ways that were anything but what Gary expected from Rob.

Gary listened to Rob talk about his parents, friends, past, pastimes and passions equally. He tried to make sense of Rob’s life. He wants to _understand_ Rob, that’s obviously the thing. Been the thing since the first day at the auditorium. And he knows that’s ambitious, considering they don’t really know each other, but Gary assumes they have to start somewhere. That need to figure if there was something more to Rob gets harder and more present the more he learns about him. Gary can’t simply think about forgetting that, even though sometimes he thinks he should. He already knows he’s getting in too deep.

And having Rob (surprisingly and) actually share? That doesn’t help any kind of second thought he could be having in his head. Or should be holding on to. Doesn’t help that he talked about the issues with his parents; or that he didn’t even hesitate to take Gary through memory lane telling him stories about his high school years; or that he basically gave Gary a crash course into who his friends were and how much he clearly adores them. Doesn’t help that he smiled with such devotion when he looked Gary in the eyes, he felt like melting. Doesn’t help he kissed him and touched him like he cared, not like he was simply aroused. Doesn’t help that he let Gary dig through his cassettes, VHS and books; or that they talked about music for hours and realized they have so much more things in common than what they originally thought. Doesn’t help that they actually get along and that Gary’s learning how to deal and enjoy that sharp attitude that more than once can be misconstrued as smugness. Not that he isn’t smug, mind; but now Gary’s actually learning to appreciate the shades of that personality. He’s starting to kind of like it. Kind of _a lot._

Basically, doesn’t help that he likes everything he’s learnt about Rob in the past twenty-six hours so damn much.

Gary notices that Rob is holding back, though. Of course he noticed. He’s seen the way he stops himself mid-sentence sometimes or just changes the subject abruptly. And Gary only assumes Rob does that whenever he thinks he’s sharing too much. But Gary holds on to those moments, because that means there’s something in Rob that wants to open up in that way with him.

And. Yes, Gary is very much aware that he’s on his way to being screwed.

He’s invested; way too much and way too quickly.

But he’s not one to be known for holding back, really. He knows there are things he needs to restrain because he doesn’t want to drive Rob away, of course. Or Gary doesn’t want to seem like a creep either. But there are other things he _can_ let loose, right? Things he _can_ show. Mostly, he figures, because Rob’s not sending any kind of signal that Gary should stop doing that.

“What are you in the mood for?” Rob asks without moving a single muscle of his body, hands wrapped around Gary and chin resting on his shoulder.

“Whatever you want is fine.” Gary almost says in a content sigh. This closeness feels just so enchanting he’s not able to even pretend. “Maybe nothing greasy or deep fried?” Gary suggests, without moving yet. Honestly, he doesn’t need anything that might make him feel bloated right now. That might be embarrassing if he’s going to be sharing more intimate times with Rob, Gary reckons.

“Why would I give you that?” Rob sounds half amused and curious all at the same time.

“Well, I see how you people eat here. It’s harder to find a healthy place to eat than to find any kind of fast food or greasy joint around here.” Gary’s not trying to be a pig-headed, honest. It’s just that it’s hard to ignore that fact when he’s seen McDonalds, Burger King, Dunkin’ Donuts and Denny’s all share the same block only a couple of steps across his building. Not to mention that he already noticed is more expensive to eat a decent salad than a tasty double cheeseburger with fries anywhere he went.

“Wait,” Rob starts to sit on the bed, acquiring a very embarrassing whine from Gary in return because he wasn’t really looking forward to moving from that position just yet. “You are not a healthy-healthy kind of eater, right?” he asks amused, looking at Gary like he found some kind of acclaimed conclusion in his own head. “’Cause that’s the turn off I was looking for right there if you are.” He says more enthused than he should. Rob’s very dramatic, Gary has come to realize over these past hours.

“Not at all,” Gary shakes his head emphatically because that’s almost hilarious to him. He’s never been a health maniac. Sure, he believes in balance and he likes that in most aspects of his life but _not_ when it comes to food. _Never_ when it comes to food. He loves eating too much for that. “I love harmful edibles, the grossest the better. That’s precisely the problem.” Playfully he admits, poking Rob’s bicep just because it’s there and because he can.

Rob rolls his eyes, defeatedly throwing his weight on the mattress. “Of course it is,” he dramatically says and shakes his head only a curve on his lips giving away the fact that this is another thing he likes about Gary, not really too saddened about Gary’s eating habits.

“Off you go then,” Gary hurries Rob, tauntingly pushing him off the bed once he’s sitting on it. “I need my nutrients.”

“You could just ask nicely, you know?” Rob’s raising an eyebrow at that and Gary’s already catching up to where his dirty head is going and shaking his head unable to hide a loud cackle. “I mean, it’s always nice to know someone’s eager to swallow but I thought you were a gentleman, Gary.” He accuses leading a hand to his chest, needlessly expressing offense.

“Oh dear _Lord!_ ” honestly, after a day and hours, Gary should’ve seen that coming.

“Swallowing it’s also a great way to say ‘I like you’, so I’m definitely flattered but you could have a bit more touch the next time you feel like saying you wanna eat me.” Rob goes on with his jokes, surely enjoying the way Gary’s red as a tomato right now.

“Just go get us some food, for Christ sakes.” Gary demands pushing Rob completely out of bed; still chuckling because even though he feels his face burning he can’t help but enjoy this, the joking, the teasing, how insanely comfortable it feels.

“Alright, alright” Rob laughing too now while he’s grabbing a pair of sweats of the floor and throwing them on. “Jeez, you’re bossy.”

And that reddish tone on his cheeks gets even more intense because Gary remembers Rob very distinctively call him that not a lot of hours ago while they were sharing a very intense handjob and Gary was eagerly asking him to please turn it into a blowjob. He may have demanded it even. But Rob liked it, if the moan that accompanied the accusation of authoritarianism served as any kind of reference.

Gary snaps out of those thoughts before they become too evident in his pants. He gets out of bed as well. “Do you want me to help?” he asks while he nonchalantly walks towards the electric keyboard Rob has in his room. Gary noticed it some time ago, of course he did. It’s probable the first thing Gary paid attention to, once he could take a full look at the room around him and his senses weren’t all filled with Rob’s existence. He’s been wondering if he could maybe try it out. It’s a beautiful black Fender Rhodes with a single pedal that can’t be more than a couple of years old. _Alright_ , Gary’s been eyeing it for a while now and he might be dying to play with it, only a bit. He also might be dying to play a song in it. One that’s been in his head for more than an hour now; he’s just been waiting for the movie to be over and probably for the right moment to test the waters.

“Nah, don’t worry,” Robs shrugs while Gary’s now sitting on the piano. “I’m sure there’s left-overs from---what are you doing?” Rob abruptly asks when he notices that Gary’s turning the keyboard on. “Are you gonna play for me?” Rob’s smiling fully now, clearly excited and that alone makes Gary slightly fidget.

He hums in affirmation, his digits ghosting the keys. He’s not looking at Rob, his eyes fixed on his fingers. Gary’s nervous; which is ridiculous because he’s never had stage fright. Not playing in front of his family for Christmas; not doing old Ray Charles and Frank Sinatra renditions at that old bar in Cheshire; not playing in the auditorium filled with teachers and judgmental students at Oxford. This is something he’s good at, so he figures that knowing that is why he’s not usually this worried. But. This is different, of course it is. He’s about to play a song for… _for_ Rob, in the intimacy of his bedroom this time. And also half naked. That is a factor as well, naturally. Not any song either. Gary’s deliberately not thinking about some of the aspects of the songs, the confessions that might sound too big and not entirely accurate right now. What he is thinking about is the way Rob’s eyes shone when he was mumbling that song while watching the movie. He’s thinking about how his smile turned incredibly big. How he stared at Gary like he was expecting him to sing along with him and how excited he looked when he noticed Gary knew the lyrics for that melody by heart. “Remember how I told you I bought the soundtrack immediately after seeing the movie?” Gary explains already finding the first keys with his fingers. “Well, I wanted to learn how to play this one song…” he continues while he’s still not looking at Rob. He should before Rob notices something weird, he reckons. So Gary directs his gaze to Rob, sitting on the bed, paying inexplicable attention to what Gary’s doing and saying. Not too focus on the finding-food task anymore. “I’m sure I still remember it.” Gary gives him a smile that borders arrogance but that it’s still playful. Of course he remembers the song. He’s played it more than once, never for anyone other than himself but still. That reality does not goes unnoticed by Gary either; the fact that he never shared this song with anyone else. Or the fact that he didn’t share a love song with anyone, period.

Not that this is a big gesture, alright? It’s a silly thing, a silly song, _just_ a song. Nothing to get worked up over. The same way he sang that Elton John song not too long ago, he’s doing this now. Certainly Rob would see it that way, right? Yes, of course he would. Rob already knows that Gary loves to play; they covered that in one of their conversations over a cigarette last night when Rob asked him why he didn’t even hesitated to play that Elton tune for him. Gary told him how much he loves to find moments to do _sing-songs_. Clearly, he neglected to say the part where he was particularly excited to do it for him but, like he already established, there are certain things he doesn’t need to tell Rob just yet. That kind of ridiculous thoughts appearing way too son on his mind, he knows. Nevertheless, for all intent and purposes and as far as Rob needs to know, this is simply Gary doing a beautiful song written by an incredible artist they both admire. As simple that. If Rob thinks Gary might be a show off, that’s fine; considering the alternative, of course.

It might be a tad more than that, sure. Not that Rob needs to find that out now.

And even though he should reconsider, he doesn’t. He can’t help it, is the thing. He’s never been good at not wearing his heart on his sleeve, neither to hide from the things he wants. And he wants to play this song for Rob. Amongst other things.

He’s just… _really_ not good at holding back. Not in this aspect anyways. 

*** 

Well, one thing is for fucking sure and Rob has no doubt about it. Gary was sent to this country and this school and his life to screw the shit out of his head. To mind-fuck him without any kind of compassion, apparently. Not that he didn’t realize this before now; but he’s thinking about the veracity of that particular detail while he’s sitting on that damn bed, his ass glued to the mattress, and his eyes equally pasted to the impossibly beautiful man sited on his electric piano. Or Mark’s electric piano that they decided to keep in Rob’s room because Rob uses it more often. Anyways, irrelevant.

What is relevant is that he’s having trouble breathing because he’s having, probably, the most impressive boy he’s ever met locked up in his apartment-- Ok, not _locked up_ , is not like he’s forcing Gary to stay, even though they joked about him developing Stockholm Syndrome soon. But not locked up. Point being, Gary’s in his room about to play a song for him. A song from the _Labyrinth soundtrack_. And he could be playing the fucking birthday song and Rob will still be pleased, sure. But Gary’s about to play a song from his favorite movie. For him. Maybe Rob will have a stroke, he’s considering that possibility. Because Gary is half naked in the piano, giving him a soft nervous smile and Rob’s here again, thinking that Gary’s adorable. _Adorable_ and he wants to kiss him stupid just to make sure he understands he doesn’t have shit to be nervous about.

Not that he’s overthinking this. Rob guesses he’s probably nervous because he’s half naked and about to play a song in a very _private_ ‘session’. He already got that Gary’s not as comfortable in the nude as Rob is. Which is a shame, really. Gary has a great perky ass and impressive legs, ones that are basically made for biting. And licking. And a really nice cock, too. A really beautiful and demanding dick, if Rob’s being honest. He’d like to---well, a lot of things that if he starts thinking about them right now he won’t be able to let Gary do what he’s about to do.

To sum up, Gary is great. Amazing even. Rob knows he barely knows Gary, but he’s already aware of how fucking ridiculous and incredible he is. Worst part is; those things he doesn’t know about Gary? He’s sure that he’d love those too. And that’s some scary ass shit. But it’s ok. _Of course_ it’s ok, because of that expiration date. So he lets himself like those things he knows and virtually like in advance the ones that doesn’t. Gary is blindingly gorgeous and fucking enchanting and he’s about to play a song for him in only his underwear. Right. This is Rob’s life, apparently. Well, at least for a little while longer it is.

“I’m ready, Gary. Hit me.” Rob decides to encourage him, smiling and repressing excitement as hell. Gary nods a little more secure and then his hands are resting on those keys. Before the music starts Rob adjusts himself on the mattress, his arms resting on his legs now.

And that’s the moment when… well, when the first chords coming from that piano and the realization of what song Gary’s playing hits him.

_A kind of pale jewel / open and closed / within your eyes.  
I'll place the sky / within your eyes._

Gary’s playing _“As The World Falls Down”_ for him. He’s playing and singing one of the most beautiful songs David Bowie ever performed, one from his favorite movie, one that Rob expressed pointedly how much he liked.

Sure, Gary chose that song because they just saw that movie. He probably hasn’t played it in a really long time and he decided to do it now. No big deal, right? Maybe he wanted to play it for Rob, because… well, Rob can’t think about the whys.

_Though we're strangers 'til now / We're choosing the path / Between the stars._

He can’t think about the reasons because he’s suddenly too… _saturated_. There’s so much heart in the way Gary’s singing and Rob knows that it probably has nothing to do with the words, those words can’t be directed to Rob, but they smack him just the same. He knows that there is no secret meaning in Gary singing this for him, with his eyes closed and every emotion seemingly at the tip of his fingers. Knowing that means shit, because he feels himself collapsing just the same. Gary’s voice is filling him up, it’s making him smile without even wanting it, it’s making his chest warm and his belly… shit.

It’s just… it’s beautiful. Gary is beautiful. That song is beautiful. This damn fucking moment is annoyingly beautiful and Rob shouldn’t want it but he fucking does.

_Falling / As the world falls down  
Falling / Falling / Falling in love._

No, he is not. _Of course_ he is not. Gary isn’t either. That’s not how love works and Rob gets that. He hates that he knows that, but he fucking does all the same. Twenty four hours are not enough. But the words are heavy all the same. Because that’s when it _really_ hits Rob. He _could_. Probably, he could. If things were different, he could try to let himself fall. And of course that only reassures that his original plan, the one of leaving Gary behind once this moment ends, it’s the right thing to do. Because this is officially fucking dangerous and he is realizing at what extent while Gary’s singing with such a passion that it feels like it’s automatically flowing through his words and fingers; altering Rob fucking senses.

_As the world falls down / Makes no sense at all / Makes no sense to fall._

He’s not panting, but only because he’s doing a big fucking effort to breathe and keep himself in check. To at least play it cool at some fucking level. Gary ending the song and everything is in the fucking air. The tension, the powerful words dancing in the air, the meaning or hopeful lack of, the passion of that performance and it’s all fucked up together in a very heavy mist that’s complicating Rob’s breathing. A metaphorical mist, of course, this is not that kind of universe but it might as well be. It feels like fucking real. Because---

“Fuck” Rob murmurs out loud overwhelmed as shit. _Because_ Gary is still not looking at him, his eyes focused on his hands like he’d lose them if he looks any other way. And that might just mean that Gary’s head is where Rob’s is. Or something like that. Gary’s clearly flustered and Rob has no fucking idea why because his voice was spot on and he didn’t fucking mess up one chord. So it’s not the performance. It’s something else and maybe he’s feeling this shitty mist or whatever the fuck it is just as much as Rob is.

And it’s ok. If that’s the case, is ok. Because all of this will end. It will all _fall down_ eventually, right? Rob will make sure of that. That’s fucking poetic, if Rob says so himself.

He has no idea where the strength to stand on his feet without falling comes from, but Rob’s suddenly walking towards Gary and that stupid piano. He’s not talking, because right now he’s not sure what he would say—or if his tongue would work but he’s suddenly all over Gary’s space. He’s using two fingers to softly fondle Gary’s forehead, hand slowly travelling to cup his cheek. They are locking eye contact and neither of them dares to say a word. But they smile almost mirroring each other. They share a sweet beam that seems to get only bigger in the silence. Gary closes his eyes when Rob’s thumb is caressing his jawline and Rob sighs loudly.

 _You are something else, Gary Barlow. You really are something dangerous and special;_ Rob thinks in another sigh. Thinks and doesn’t say.

“Mhm? Food?” Gary mutters with his eyes still shut and for a second, or a couple of them, Rob has to think about what the hell he’s talking about. Right. He was supposed to get food before all this.

“Yeah, like I can think about that now” Rob whispers and shakes his head slightly. Gary’s still not moving, Rob’s fingers carefully moving slightly across his face and, fuck. Gary looks particularly beautiful like this, content and cared for and seemingly satisfied in a different way. “God… I fucking hate you.” Rob says fucking defeated. Why is he even fighting this? It will all end and he might as well enjoy the burning, right? “You are fucking--- trouble” Rob’s not meant to say it out loud, he doesn’t mean to let Gary see that particular conflict dancing in his fucking insides but the words just slip of his mouth and he can’t do shit once they are already out.

“Me?” Gary asks, barely opening his eyes and frowning with curiosity.

“Yeah, _you._ ” Rob answers, nodding twice. Of course Gary is the dangerous one. Rob could be the one with the rock band and the sexual rap sheet to go with his reputation but Gary’s the one that is trouble _for him_. He’s way too incredible and seemingly perfect for someone like Rob. For someone with and emotional baggage so big he can barely use the word ‘love’ out loud and mean it or think about letting himself feel something so massive without _literally_ having a panic attack.

But Gary doesn’t get that, does he? Of course he doesn’t, because he has no idea about Rob’s past. Because there are a lot of things Rob have shared with Gary but not _that_. Never that. So he is painfully unaware of how ridiculous it is to Rob that Gary’s looking at him like he said something senseless. So Rob laughs, a short laugh and one that is a little cynical, but he can’t help it. “Shit Gary… you are so fucking oblivious” again, he doesn’t mean to actually say that but his fucking head-to-mouth filter is not really working right now.

“What does that even mean?” Gary snaps without really raising his voice but almost scowling at Rob.

“Nothing” Rob shakes his head because he’s a selfish asshole and he rather Gary be oblivious to all the shit that’s going on in his head. That way he doesn’t feel too exposed. He feels denuded enough as it is. Rob’s arm falls back next to his body and he shakes his head again. “I’m just… you freak me out a little. I’m not used to this shit, to…” he tries to explain which is something he shouldn’t really fucking do. Brain-to-mouth filters not fucking working again. “Nothing, alright? I’m sorry” he’d really like to leave it at that.

“Oi, no.” Of course Gary’s not having it. “Don’t be sorry with me, alright? Just… talk to me.” Gary tries to bargain.

“No.” Rob denies, determined. “I really… _really_ don’t want to, Gary, alright?” _please, just fucking leave it at that._

“Alright… but you can, yes? If you’d want to, you can talk to me” Gary goes for Rob’s hand and Rob just lets him. Gary’s lovely. Rob’s not used to this kind of sweet. He’s usually an asshole so he doesn’t inspire that type of sentiments often, he’s aware. And he’s fucking fine with that, it _works_ for him. Only Mark is sweet with him really, but this is dramatically different of course. This is painfully different. And Rob likes it. Yes, this also works for him, apparently. Gary being warm, tender and sweet works really well for Rob. It’s… fuck, it’s nice and then some.

“Noted,” Rob settles for answering even though he has no intention of talking to Gary about this. Not about this. He’s lying again, he knows. But maybe he’s not so much lying as he is granting Gary what he wants to listen to. Rob can talk to him about other things, though. So maybe he’s not lying that much.

Rob tightens his grip on Gary’s hand and smiles a bit, getting lost in Gary’s eyes again. “Thank you.” Rob says, slightly crouching so his lips are closer to Gary’s “for the song, I mean.” He explains and kisses Gary slowly now. “You are good, you know that?” he murmurs with a teasing tone, his lips ghosting Gary’s. “It’s almost as if you were doing that since you were five” he taunts because that’s one of the things he’s learnt about Gary, that he’s been playing the piano since he was fucking five years old. How is he even a real fucking person?

That is rewarded with a loud laugh from Gary and Rob’s content with that. Or not really, but it’s a start. He’s suddenly thinking about a lot of things he wants to bring out in Gary. He’s looking at Rob so earnestly and seemingly at peace with the feedback he’s receiving from Rob that he can’t help but think of the many other things he wants to reward Gary with. It’s ridiculous and so fucking outside his comfort zone, but it is what it is. The fact that Gary just showed his heart in a simple and powerful song is making Rob horny and that is the fucking ridiculous part. Aside from all the sappy shit he’s dealing with in his head, he’s realizing that this closeness -this intimacy- is a fucking turn on. And yes, that is another scary aspect of whatever the fuck is going on in this apartment between them. Rob’s never been turned on by this type of emotional shit. He’s into sweaty, rough, dirty and meaningless exchange of orgasms. Sometimes it doesn’t even matter to him if there is an actual exchange, as long as he’s the one coming. That’s always been part of the turn on for him, the anonymity, the simplicity and, yes, the selfishness. He’s not going to lie, his best orgasms had come in dirty bathrooms with people he’s barely known; and that is part of the fucking excitement of it all. Not _this_. And part of the reason for that is that this type of shit scares the living life out of him. So, _this_ is so far from his comfort zone he might as well be in another fucking universe altogether.

But he wants it anyway. He wants to show Gary how much he enjoyed his performance and not only with cheesy fucking words or honest confessions he can’t word out loud. So he wants to show him in a different way he knows it would be just as effective. He really, really, _really_ fucking wants to. And he lets himself; starting with a deep kiss he deliberately makes needy and purposeful.

He will let himself show Gary everything he feels like showing until he leaves this apartment, he realizes. There’s no point in hiding, clearly. Gary is fucking messing with him and fighting it will only make it worse. He is probably gonna screw everything up doing that, he’s aware, but--- well, he’s an ass after all, right? Popular opinion says that, he’s earned that title with so many dick moves… might as well take responsibility for his reputation and ignore that possible outcome. Whatever. As long as they both enjoy the ride, then maybe the crash will be worth it.

With that in mind, he’s now between Gary’s legs. He’s still sitting in that chair and he’s kissing Rob with desperation now. And it’s fucking beautiful. Fuck. Gary’s making these little noises of pleasure every time Rob’s tongue strokes his and Rob thinks he’s never heard anything so sweet. Gary’s so fucking responsive it makes Rob even more determined, every time. He likes that everything he does seems to alter Gary and that idea has Rob half hard already.

Gary is kissing him earnestly now; absolutely on board with whatever Rob wants to do, even he has no idea. And that’s another turn on, Rob thinks. How… willingly he trusts Rob to take care of his needs, without even asking sometimes. Another times he does ask, which makes it even better because if there’s one thing Rob loves is fucking talking. And talking about fucking. Especially during.

But not this time. This time Gary’s not asking and simply throwing himself into it. So Rob does the exact same thing, placing himself between Gary’s legs and using his own to open them just a little more. Gary’s whining now, because Rob stopped the kiss. Only that involuntary complain dies when he realizes that Rob is on his knees, nested between Gary’s legs, his lips tracing his chest leaving little bites on his way to hem of his boxer briefs.

Rob’s not wasting any time, that’s for sure. He doesn’t care about making this slow, hell no. He wants to rile Gary up, in the best possible way. That’s why his fingers immediately go to pull down Gary’s underwear only a little, enough for his already swollen cock to be free. Shit, he has such a beautiful cock Rob’s mouth is literally watering and he laugh comes from between his lips. He doesn’t dwell on that, though. Too busy looking up directly into Gary’s eyes while he’s trapping him in his mouth. He can feel it, how that sweet dick is fully bulked up while Gary exhales a surprised noise drowned by a spontaneous moan. Rob smirks with his mouth occupied and uses his tongue across the underside of Gary’s cock. With one hand holding Gary’s fullness he busies himself sucking Gary’s head, only teasing a bit, and then simply sinks into it. Rob takes him completely; sucking and licking every inch with absolute dedication and in a rhythm that is clearly working for Gary; if all those intense noises he’s producing are any indication. He can feel Gary’s trying to grab his hair, not in a demanding way but more like he needs something to hold on to and that is a fucking great feeling. Fuck. Is not usual he feels these things, but he’s thinking he might want to let his hair grow so Gary can grab him better. That thought dies right away because, _right_. He’s not gonna have time to try that because whatever-this-is, is ending. That shitty reality only accelerates him more. He’s sucking harder now, more determined, using suction shamelessly and taking the time to look as obscene as he can because he knows that Gary’s watching, Rob can feel his eyes burning him fucking wonderfully. He doesn’t stop. Not when Gary’s moaning his name loudly or when he tries to let him know he’s about to come with a hand on Rob’s nape. He only intensifies every movement, tasting the precome and knowing that he must look incredibly filthy because he can even feel his chin dripping. Shit, he wants to touch himself, his own cock is aching like crazy but he can’t even focus on that. Not when Gary’s fingers are leaving crescent marks on his skin, his legs tensing around Rob’s torso like he’s trying to make sure Rob won’t stop. He feels that telling flutter between his lips, and only seconds later Gary’s coming strong, loud and messy in his mouth.

Rob takes it in. Takes it all in. He’s licking and making sure that he swallows all that mess; can’t help but fucking smile pleased through it because Gary’s still panting and he can hear a small laugh coming from him. “Fuck,” Gary says fighting to find his wind and Rob can’t help but fucking moan at that because he loves when Gary swears. He doesn’t do it, not normally, Rob noticed that. So when he does it is because he’s out of words and that gives him a really fucking good feeling in his stomach. His blowjob left him out of words and looking wrecked. Yeah, that’s fucking gratifying to Rob. Who knew? “What was that for?” Gary finally asks when Rob has him out of his mouth and is using the back of his hand to clean his wet lips and chin.

“Are you complaining?” Rob asks, smiling and adjusting Gary into his briefs again. “Do I need a fucking reason?” he adds more to the point but then smiles when Gary grabs his chin and brings him close so they can kiss.

“Guess you don’t.” Gary answers ghosting his lips and tasting himself in Rob’s mouth.

“Damn right I don’t.” Rob’s using an unnecessarily menacing tone and laughing before deepening the kiss they never fully stopped sharing. What is he supposed to say, tho? That the only thing Gary needed to do was sing a fucking song with that kind of dedication to make Rob desperately horny? Gary would read into that. He would _get_ it. And Rob can’t afford that.

“Right,” Gary exhales in a determined whisper and without a warning he’s grabbing Rob by his thighs and lifting him in the air. The kiss stops but only because for a second he thought they were going to fall but Gary’s holding him firmly and moving them both from that piano to the bed. “Well, me neither then.” he alerts playfully, both of them laughing now, and goes back to his lips hungrily once he’s placed Rob on the mattress, trapping him between it and Gary’s body.

Rob closes his legs around Gary and they are pretty much eating each other’s faces after a couple of seconds. Not that Rob’s complaining. Gary’s moving on top of him, very deliberately rubbing Rob’s dick against his hip bone and it feels fucking great. Rob wants more, but he can’t even sort himself enough to think of what to do. Or ask. Or exist, whatever. He’s way too turned on for being coherent apparently. He’s just enjoying the shit out of the way Gary’s appreciatively licking his neck, biting his skin and using his hands to leave him completely naked in records time.

Gary’s lips go back to Rob’s skin and now they are travelling frantically through soft spots: tongue wet and firm against his inner thigh, suction insolently being used on the pasty spot right above his cock and they keep teasing him until Gary’s teeth are biting not too gently one of Rob’s nipples. And _fuck_. Rob is fucked up. He wants to beg, he wants to demand for something more, his dick is seriously aching and it feels so fucking good. He’s about to ask for something, anything; he opens his eyes to find Gary’s face, to do just that. Only that when he does, he meets a determined Gary looking so fucking incredible licking the most sensitive spot of his nipple with his eyes close… Rob almost doesn’t want to interrupt him. So he moans instead. Because that sight… shit, that sight is fucking with his head almost as much as that song minutes ago. Gary’s loving this, that’s the thing. He fucking loves turning Rob on, he becomes a whole new different kind of Gary every time he’s driving Rob right through pleasure. He seriously looks like he’s loving it and that is--- fuck, that is something special. It shouldn’t, Rob knows. Rob’s made a lot of people come but _this_? Him? It’s different. And it’s scary how much seeing Gary enjoy this is stirring him up. And not in a bad way. Not at all. So yeah, fucking scary it is, but Rob’s smiling. He’s smiling like a fucking asshole who’s way more delighted than he should. Because Gary looks like he’s more turned on than five minutes ago. And yeah. That’s hot to Rob. That’s really fucking hot.

“I like it when you smile” Gary murmurs hidden in the crook of Rob’s neck now, lips taunting the back of his ear and thumb teasing his wet nipple.

“That’s what you are picking to like right now?” Rob gasps, laughing. Really, he’s naked, painfully hard, whining Gary’s name and begging with every movement of hips against his body and he goes for Rob’s smile?

“Yes,” Gary says, apparently entertained and his lips exploring Rob’s jawline. “You don’t do that very often… not with that kind of honest smile.” He explains looking straight to his eyes now and smiles while still panting. “I want to make you smile like that more often.” He lets him know licking his lips and letting his eyes set on Rob’s smile. Yeah, he still has that stupid smile on his face, can’t even fucking help it.

What he can do is let an honest thought scape his mouth. “You are ridiculous—” and it doesn’t come out mean-spirited at all. Just… a mixture of weirded out and, well, still fucking turned on and needy, of course. “I just blew you and of all the things you could do to me you wanna make me smile?” Seriously, of all the options, that’s the one he’s picking? Either Gary’s really shitty at dirty talk or he’s the sweetest fucker, even when he’s trying to give an orgasm.

But Gary doesn’t look offended. Or even affected. He simply shrugs. He _shrugs_ , smile getting wider. “Never said how I’d accomplish that, Robert.” Well, that’s really fucking formal, isn’t it? What is he--- _Oh_. Oh, alright. _Yes._ Gary’s immediately between his legs now, using both his hands on Rob’s inner thigh to steady him, like he’s really planning on setting camp there for a while and wants to be confortable. Still, his mouth is obnoxiously far from his cock and Rob can’t help but push up his hips in need. “May I?” Gary asks innocently, being an absolute fucking annoyingly teasing fuck and Rob loves it.

“Fuck,” is the only thing Rob manages to desperately pant out loud.

“That sounds like a yes,” Gary bites softly the skin where his leg ends and his groin begins and Rob whines loudly moving in anticipation under him. “Was that a yes, Rob?”

“ _Yes_ you asshole! Yes, fuck— _please_.” Rob is not ashamed of fucking begging, alright? Not if it’s worth it.

_And fuck, it’s worth it._

There’s a soft thumb sliding across Rob’s length and even if it is a really soft touch it’s enough to have him insistently whimpering. That finger moves soon enough to his shaft and now Gary’s entire hand is holding him, moving only slightly and the fucker is smiling. Where the fuck did he get this confidence, Rob wonders. It’s not fair that he looks so insufferably good teasing the shit out of him. He’s about to scowl him because there is no patience left in him, and that’s exactly when Gary moves his lips just to hover over Rob’s head. No teasing this time, he just takes him in. Like he’s used to this. Like this is a natural fucking thing he’s been doing for a long time and Rob can’t makes sense of that. Not that sense is important, not at this moment, but he’ll think about that later. How Gary’s eagerness to make him feel pleasure makes him look like he’s a master at it. And if it wasn’t for the fact that he can sometimes read the wonder in Gary when he does something particularly amazing and notices it in Rob’s reaction, he’d think Gary was fucking bullshitting him about his lack of experience.

Like right now. Like that thing he’s doing with his tongue while he sucks like a fucking hoover around him. “Shit, you’re so… so fucking amazing.” Rob blurs out in an exhale, spreading his legs wider. “How can you be new at this? _Shit_.” He asks without actually expecting a response while Gary’s head bobs relentlessly and he can--- he can actually feel Gary silently moaning around his cock. It’s all too fucking much. It’ll soon be too fucking much.

But then Gary’s slowing down and his mouth is not taking Rob in anymore. “Rob…” He’s instead using that obscene mouth to talk and Rob doesn’t fucking want that.

“Fuck, don’t stop-- don’t fucking tease--” he shamelessly begs, moving his hips upwards in a pathetic attempt to go back to two seconds in the past.

“Rob, please, I---” Rob realizes Gary actually _wants_ something, so he restrains his fucking self and opens is eyes to look at Gary who’s--- shit, who looks like the definition of fucking sin. Those lips red and wet, his perfect and delicate hand still working Rob and those eyes dark and needy. So he just raises his eyebrows, waiting for whatever it is Gary wants to say or asks for or-- “I want to… fuck you?”

“Christ!” Rob basically moans in an embarrassing way. He was not expecting that. He was not. But. “Yes. _Oh god._ Are you sure? _Yes_. Please” he answers before even thinking about it because, well, what the fuck is there to think? He’s wanted that since that night at the Molly’s and he’d be lying if he said he didn’t jerk off to that thought more than once. Plus, Gary looks sure. Likes like he’s been wanting to say that for a while. Who the fuck is Rob to deny that, really?

“But—” Gary starts, looking suddenly insecure and stopping everything he was doing. He looks nervous, Rob can see.

So Rob forgets about his own shit for a second, sits on the bed and bends enough to steal a deep, messy, damp and desperate kiss. “Shit, Gary.” He whispers wildly, smiling like an asshole. “I’ll walk you through it, alright? I got you.” He promises somehow and waits patiently because he knows that’ll work. That’s what Gary needs for that fucking uncertainty to go away. And he refuses to think about how ridiculous is it to _know_ something like that when he barely knows Gary.

He won’t think about that, but it works all the same.

Because now Gary’s smiling and nodding, lip trapped between his teeth and Rob feels like he can breathe again. He’s not wasting another second, so he kisses Gary again, deeper and filthier; before going to his drawer and getting the lube and condoms and leaving them somewhere on the mattress close to them.

Immediately he goes back to where he was, Gary between his legs and he sits again grabbing one of Gary’s fingers. He smiles when he sees the confused expression he gets in returned. Rob doesn’t say anything and simply kisses those fingers; first sweetly and innocently but then he’s using his tongue to damp them slightly. He’s still as fucking turned on as he was two minutes ago, but he needs do this right. He needs to make this… _memorable_. For Gary, that’s the worst, most unnecessary thing. He wants to make it memorable _for Gary_. Shit.

Rob lets those fingers explore his mouth while Gary’s eyes are centered on the action, his mouth open like he can’t believe his sight and Rob feeling incredibly filthy right now. And he likes filthy. He likes the way Gary seems to like it too. So he simply lets the action get a little more explicit. He closes his eyes and starts sucking on those fingers while he massages them, saliva and little noises escaping his mouth equally.

When he opens his eyes, Gary’s own are dark and heavy. They look hungry and full of need. Rob can’t help but smile, taking those fingers out of his mouth and graving the little bottle with his free hand. Without warning Gary, Rob’s coating very nicely two of those already wet fingers with lube. Gary raises his eyebrows in an expression that should be ridiculous but it’s so fucking sweet, Rob simply has to kiss it.

Without thinking any further –because, honestly, _what is_ thinking; Rob’s back is on the mattress and one of his legs is resting on Gary’s shoulder. “Come here,” he calls Gary and grabs him by the jaw to bring him closer. Gary obliges immediately, quiet but confident and that’s all Rob needs to see in his eyes. He’s not doubting and that’s fucking perfect. “Ok, now I need you to… work me.” Rob asks. “Just use your fingers to open me up… like you’ve done with yourself, right?” Gary nods and his sweet fingers are finding their way between Rob’s cheeks. “Use only one first,” Rob warns and Gary nods again, doing exactly that. With not the perfect aim, he finds the spot soon enough and he’s placing one of those perfect fingers in Rob. He was about to give instructions, to make Gary confortable, to give him confidence but Gary doesn’t _need_ it. The moment that finger starts moving, working him open, Rob realizes that Gary _definitely_ has done this to himself. Of course it’s not the same, but that’s where Gary’s knowledge of what he’s doings is coming from. Rob knows. Or maybe that’s what he likes thinking? Gary defiling himself with this eagerness, in his lonesome, taking care of his own needs this way. He closes his eyes thinking about that, feeling how those images and the way Gary’s finger dance inside of him are starting to burn. In an intense and metaphorical way, clearly. He lets his body relax, his muscles welcome Gary and that little fucker is using two fingers now, with perfect rhythm and what feels like absolute control. Soon enough he’s three fingers deep and he feels too full and not full enough at the same time. “Deeper, baby--- go deeper,” he begs in a shaky breath. That’s exactly what Gary does. Relentlessly and in a way that is not perfect in technique but absolutely right at the same time.

Rob’s starting to feel those long digits all over his body, the invasion and—“Fuck!” Gary finding that spot is suddenly too overwhelming but in a way he knows well, a way that means _more_. Rob needs _more_.

“Gary--- _Gaz_ , stop—that’s enough;” he begs, nickname coming out of his mouth without even thinking about it. Rob fights with his own extremities to find the strength to move, using a hand to find the small wrapped piece of latex, opening it with his teeth. “Come ‘ere, sugar.” He grabs Gary and pulls him closer. Rob immediately goes for eye contact and kisses him slowly without ever closing them. He needs to see his eyes during this, needs to see Gary’s reaction. Rob hand reaches for Gary’s cock, placing the condom on him. The kiss is interrupted by a beautiful moan and loving that immediate response from Gary, Rob decides to work him a little with his fist, only a couple of strokes. And fuck if it isn’t lovely. Fucking ridiculously obscene to watch Gary’s mouth open, forgetting all about the kiss and enjoying that brief second of release that Rob is fucking sure is not even close to being enough for Gary to be making that small pleased and desperate noise.

That’s it. His patience is worn thin and he needs Gary. He needs him right fucking now. “Come on--- I am so fucking ready.” Rob’s begging again and Gary lets out a small laugh before he’s nodding. “Are you?” he asks with… well, fuck, with honesty. He cares, alright? He fucking wants Gary to be ready and he needs to know that he’s not rushing into anything.

“Yeah, Rob.” He whispers while nodding again. “I think I was ready yesterday.” He murmurs and Rob can’t help but laugh. Looking at him, desperate and ready when only a week ago he wasn’t even sure what to do about his want of cock is fucking beautiful.

“Good.” Rob breathes out and immediately adjusts Gary better between his legs. His ass feels wet and so fucking slippery, he almost laughs. They might be using a little bit too much of lube what that’s ok. It’s… necessary, Rob bargains. It’s been a while. Actually, it’s been a long fucking while since something was up in there.

 _Something_ being the key word. Because no one’s ever been in there before, not other than a couple of playful fingers. No cock, that’s what Rob means. Not that Gary needs to know that. It’s irrelevant, Rob decides.

Instead he opens his legs more, while Gary is placing himself between his cheeks and the simple brush of cock on that whole it’s giving Rob fucking anxiety. With one hand in Gary’s nape, he pulls him in for a deep kiss. It’s a messy kiss and a way of telling him to fucking go for it. And he gets it the second Rob’s tongue invades Gary’s mouth hungrily.

With a simple but steady move of his hips, Gary’s slowly and easily inside of Rob. Not all the way, but enough for Rob to feel the invasion in his toes. He closes his eyes and forces his muscles to relax. He’s… definitely not used to this. Clearly a fucking dildo is nowhere the same as the real thing but he can’t say a fucking thing. Instead he nods and next thing he knows Gary’s all the way in. There’s this small feeling of pain but it’s not a bad one, he knows this feeling but it’s so fucking different Rob needs a minute. He bites his bottom lip and takes a deep breath and he just--- “It’s ok… Gary, you can move--- please, fucking move.” Gary breathlessly laughs and kisses his lips untidily and he finally, _fucking finally_ , moves.

And after a couple of thrusts---well, fuck. All hell breaks loose. Like, honestly. Everything is fucking fire, the distress between his legs long forgotten. No, there is no more of that. His skin is burning and the steady moves of Gary’s hips are giving him anything but distress. It started slowly, almost meticulously steady but it’s soon becoming grimy and perfect. There is no intent of control in Gary’s moves anymore and that’s exactly what Rob wants. What Rob likes. His hands move from Gary’s back to his ass and only uses his grip there to try and make every move deeper, faster--- shit, _harder_. He’s sure he’s asking for that out loud without even noticing because Gary is giving him exactly that. One of Rob’s legs is pretty much around Gary’s neck now and he’s finding a new position that works because--- _Yes. That._ Gary’s hitting his spot every time his cock goes back fully inside of him and that’s it. Rob stops thinking or even trying.

Gary is moaning and calling his name and it sounds like a fucking chant. Rob is sure Gary’s saying how good it feels in between those whimpers and Rob would pay attention, he really would. But he can’t stop writhing in absolute pleasure. Desperate for more and not sure he could take more at the same time. Every thrust is a new wave of sensations and Gary lips feel so good biting and kissing softly but passionately the skin of his neck he’s sure not gonna last a lot longer. Not a lot longer at all.

And then Gary bites him. Really bites him, like it’s an involuntary thing he’s doing just to control himself and that makes Rob cry a very loud moan because it feels fucking good. “Rob--- I’m not sure I’ll last much longer.” He warns in a breathless tone and Rob… yeah, well, that’s another thing they have in common.

“Let go, Gaz.” That fucking nickname again. What the fuck is that? His fucking head betraying him, that’s what. “Just let go,” he thinks he manages to say out loud and starts moving his own hips more pointedly. The only sounds in the air being skin against skin, louder and persistent; interrupted only by both of them unceremoniously panting. It’s all working so obscenely well for Rob. Perfectly well.

And then Gary goes for his cock. And, yeah, that does it.

Gary’s only using one arm to balance himself on the mattress and his other hand is wrapping Rob’s cock, working him without even asking and that _clearly_ does it. That’s the last straw for Rob. He can’t even warn Gary before he’s coming all over himself and between them with a loud suffocated cry. He feels his muscles tensing around Gary and apparently that and only a couple more thrusts are enough for Gary as well, because he’s soon coming as well with Rob’s name on his lips and a huge heavy moan that is only muffled by the skin of Rob’s shoulder.

Rob only realized how hard he was grabbing Gary’s ass when the orgasm starts wearing off. He thinks that’s definitely going to leave marks, and he’s alright with it. He’s also alright knowing that the way Gary’s bitten his neck is also going to leave a pretty fucking big mark. And, strangely enough, he’s even delighted about that. Rob’s always liked leaving marks but never was too keen on someone else leaving him marked. It feels too… _submissive_ for him. He’s no one’s property, basically. But right at that moment, he really doesn’t fucking mind.

“That was…” Gary starts saying breathlessly, without actually finishing the sentence.

“Yeah;” Rob answers in the same manner, relaxing his legs and letting his hands travel from Gary’s ass to his back.

“I want to do that again.” Gary clears out and he makes Rob laugh.

“Hell yeah,” Rob smiles and nods eagerly, even though he feels totally spent at the moment, with Gary still inside and also still feeling the leftovers of that orgasm all over him.

Gary pulls out of him but not before unnecessarily pointing something out: “And look… you’re smiling” and yeah, he’s a cheeky fucker. Rob gives him a small playful spank on his ass. He’s a fucking menace who needs to be punished. Which would be a thought that could make him hard again if it wasn’t for the fact that he can’t even feel his toes right now.

“You are… gonna end up driving me insane.” Rob says instead with a kind of honesty he was not planning on showing. Gary is going to destroy him, he really is. He’s being sweet and caring and perfect and Rob doesn’t need that. He shouldn’t need or like that but here he is, still smiling for Gary’s satisfaction. That fucker. And he can think on how fucked up that is, so instead he goes for a kiss, deep and long kiss.

“I know the feeling,” Gary whispers once that kiss is over and he does it so low that Rob could easily think he’s imaged it. The sigh, tho; that heavy and charged sigh they both share almost simultaneously… that one he couldn’t have imagined it.

A couple of minutes pass by in absolute silence. And Rob can almost listen the thinking in Gary’s head. He might not know him that long but there are a lot of things he learnt from these past hours with Gary. One of those things is that whenever there’s shared silence and there’s nothing distracting them, it’s probably because Gary is thinking something he can’t say out loud just yet. And, no. _Nope_. To be honest, Rob doesn’t want to know what going on in Gary’s head right now. He only needs to know that he enjoyed this moment, this first time, and Gary already made that perfectly clear. So, yes, he doesn’t want to hear whatever is tangled in Gary’s head right now.

“How about that food now?” He decides on asking and that’s the perfect thing to distract him, right?

“I’m actually starving.” Gary immediately answers, smiling and nodding.

Well, it works. Food is definitely the perfect distraction.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Come talk to me on [Tumblr](http://marea707.tumblr.com/) (:  
> [This](http://marea707.tumblr.com/tagged/rpg%3A-uni-au) is the tag I have specially for this au. Also, started [another one](http://marea707.tumblr.com/tagged/fic%3A-1993) particularly for the fic. I might organize my tags at some point.


	6. At Last my Dreams (Won’t) Come True

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There’s food, more intimacy and Rob’s sure Gary’s his worst mistake.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, it’s been a long time, hasn’t it? A whole year. Damn. It’s just been a hectic year for me, so I had to focus on other things and… well, I’m back now, hopefully that’s the important part.  
> I intend to make frequent updates on this fic from now on. Actually, the idea is for the next chapter to be up in two weeks :)
> 
> THANK YOU so so so much if you are still interested in this story. And THANK YOU if you are still planning on giving it a chance :) If you are new, welcome and I hope you like it.
> 
> Now, for the chapter notes, there are none? Ok, maybe it’s worth mentioning that there’s a lot (a lot) of internal struggle and I hope you don’t find it boring? That’s it, I don’t want to spoil anything.  
> Title of the chapter is from a beautiful Elvis song that is relevant, you’ll see.
> 
> Once again, thank you everyone for reading and I welcome feedback in any form, as long as it’s made with respect =)) Please! I love receiving feedback, honestly. I won’t even pretend I don’t :p
> 
> Last but not least, thanks to my angel [Libby](http://elerinwen.tumblr.com/) although this chapter was not betaed by her because I’m an impatient fucker. So, any mistakes are my own and I’m sorry.

_This is insane._ Absolutely and undoubtedly insane.

Gary simply can’t shake this feeling because even though he said to himself that he wanted to stop thinking about security and stability like he’s sixty years old, he still thinks that _this?_ What’s happening right at this very second, this very weekend? This is all sorts of _foreign_ to him. And at this point, he’s not even pondering on the fact that he had actual sex with a bloke.

(Yes, alright, that was huge. He knows, yeah? He had bloody _sex_ with _another man_. He’s been inside _of Rob_. More than once. And it was absolutely incredible. He liked it more than he’s ever liked _anything_ related to sex ever before. More than he liked anything in his entire life before, probably. Right now, Gary had trouble finding something that sounded even remotely better than feeling the warmth of Rob’s muscles with Gary buried sweetly inside of him. Maybe his brain was still short-circuiting while trying to process that. But. Yeah. _Damn_. Alright, not the point; the point was that he was not pondering on that--- or at least not all that much)

And quite frankly, he knew he should. And there are these rare moments where he finds himself thinking how he could’ve never predicted this less than two weeks ago. And of course he’s still mesmerized by it; by all of it. By Rob, by the fact that he likes massively everything they’ve done together, by the fantasies he still has in his head and all the things he wants to try and still hasn’t had the chance to. God, it’s a whole new world of opportunities. A whole new world of pleasure, of intimacy. Things he never in his naïve mind imagined would experience. Or that they even existed. _Outrageously fantastic things._

But that is not what is occupying his mind, really. Or not entirely. That one is not even the most prominent part of this weekend that makes it an absolutely unusual experience. That is the part that almost feels natural and right. That’s the part that he actually _understands_. Sure, he didn’t see it coming, that doesn’t mean that he’s not more than alright with liking it. He is definitely not ashamed of it either. He’s enjoying that part. He’s not about to lie, he’s enjoying it big time.

The madness of it all revolves around _what_ he is concretely feeling.

The madness of it all revolves around Rob and how charmed Gary feels. It’s been more than twenty four hours now and he’s aware that he can’t simply assure he properly knows Rob in any kind of emotional level. He _knows_ , alright? Of course he knows that. But he also can’t deny the fact that they’ve been together for almost two entire days and they’ve never, not once, considered the idea of parting ways.

Well, that’s not entirely true. Gary might’ve said something about going back to his dorm, but Rob always distracted him from that plan. Until distracting him wasn’t enough and he specifically granted Gary the proposition of staying one more night. Not that Gary actually wanted to consider the idea of leaving, mind.

He should, he reckons. Good manners, if anything. But he really didn’t want to. He was having fun; he was delighted with the company of Rob. He was getting to know someone who he considered to be infinitely interesting and didn’t want that to end. Someone who was breathtaking, who managed to make Gary feel uneasy, excited and maybe a tad unstable. In a wonderfully scary way.  All at the same time.

Put it delicately, Gary felt he was all over the place, that was the thing. He felt like he was some sort of addict being offered his drug of choice. Or something a bit less dramatic, maybe. Probably.

Gary felt he wanted more, even though he was constantly learning new things about Rob. He just wanted to explore him, every bit of him. He wanted to listen every anecdote Rob would indulge him with. He wanted to hear more stories about his past; including those things he already realized Rob didn’t want to share just yet. Gary wanted to have more pieces of the puzzle that was _Rob_ , wanted to learn how to put it together. He wanted to understand why there were so many things apparently off limits to Rob when it came to sharing; why was he so open to sharing something so personal like details about his sexual experiences but would always avoid talking about those experiences with any kind of sentimentalism. Of course that could mean he never felt anything for any of his past partners, but Gary didn’t believe that, not really. It was more than that. Even if he never fell _in love_ , he must’ve had something good to say about the people he’s had sex with that didn’t involve the sizing of members or the duration of their activities. Hell, Gary wasn’t even expecting much. He’d be satisfied with at least an indication that those past partners were something other than just warm bodies to keep Rob occupied and satisfied.

Could it be possible, though? That Rob never let anyone get that close before? Did that mean that what they were doing was different? Or, maybe, this was all in Gary’s head. Maybe this meant nothing to Rob and a couple of days from now he’d be talking to someone else about their orgasms but never about the closeness they were obviously enjoying? They shared things, they talked about personal issues, they were honest with each other and sometimes he clearly saw Rob opening up to him in a way that was beyond superficial fun. Only-- Rob avoided that more often than not, avoided getting into that conversation as well. Sure, Gary was wearing him down; he could see it in Rob entire demeanor. But… that self-censorship was still there and very much present.

And that’s just only one of the things that somewhat made Gary anxious. That was definitely the most pressing one. Some part of Gary felt that there was _so little time_ to get to know Rob, really get to know him; and that’s where the anxiety came from.  On the other hand, this could very possibly not be the end, right? Gary knows that in the off chance this weekend is cut short, then there will always be _tomorrow_. And he’s pretty confident that Rob is in the same page.

They were having _fun_ after all. And Rob was the one who kept telling Gary not to go. Yes, Gary might not be the most experienced when it came to _casual_ affairs but--- There was nothing out there in the air that even suggested Gary should doubt that _tomorrow_ was a real possibility.

So he was doing his best, Gary was. He really was. Doing his best not to overthink this. Not to overanalyze it. Even though those are two of Gary’s most effective traits and he rarely could convince his head to keep quiet.

But--- Rob was helping. He honestly was.

His kisses were helping. The light touches were helping. The conversation heavy at times and light when needed was helping. The passion in Rob’s eyes every time he looked at him with _want_ was helping. How comfortable they seem to be next to each other doing the simplest tasks was helping. The fact that at some point during these past hours Rob decided that being sweet to him was something that, even though unnecessary, was allowed. _Yeah_. That was also helping.

Like at this very moment, for example.

At this very moment Rob is hugging him from behind while Gary’s trying to figure out what to cook for him. Or--- for both of them, really. _Trying_ being the key word in this particular predicament. Because Rob’s hands are softly placed on Gary’s naked belly and his chin resting on Gary’s shoulder and that--- was absolutely _distracting_. Also, Gary was trying to find something edible in that kitchen and even though Rob’s demonstrations of unnecessary affection were welcomed, they were also restrictive to his movements.

Not that Gary’s complaining, though. He figures he’s enjoying the seeming intimacy of the moment a bit too much to find valid reasons to actually complain. He doesn’t really need to move that much. Moving could wait. Yes. Waiting was acceptable.

“Man, you know… Mark’s the one that does the cooking around here. I suck at it.” Rob feels like pointing out which, actually, explains loads. They were trying to find something to cook in Rob’s kitchen and it seems as if Rob didn’t even know where the pans were. “I could literally live on Cheez-its and sandwiches.” He continues explaining never once attempting to step away from Gary. “It’s fucking embarrassing that I’m kidnapping you and not feeding you well, isn’t it?” Rob smiles cheekily, Gary able to see it only from the corner of his eye.

“Well, I don’t know really…” Gary fakes a very pensive tone, repressing a smile. “I feel pretty well fed, to be quite honest with you.” He finishes in the same tone. And—well, did he actually just make a dirty joke?

“Mr. Barlow!” Rob says fake-scandalized.

“Come on, then.” Gary says amused but trying to get back to the pressing matter of their nutritional future. That’s when he opens one of the cabinets to find a lonely box of dried noodles. Perfect. Two cabinets ago he saw some cans of tomatoes and a couple of onions that he was sure looked fresh enough. “Let’s see what we can make of this?” Gary suggests and Rob just looks at him with small eyes and obvious doubts about Gary’s culinary skills running through his mind. “Oh, sod off, honestly. Have some faith, will you? I only need a pot” Gary says in a pro-active tone now and that seems to be enough for Rob to finally let go of his torso. Gary feels like complaining, though. But this is for the best. He needs the liberty of _moving_ for this cooking thing, doesn’t he? “Brilliant!” he exclaims when Rob opens one of the doors to reveal their cookware.

The collection is fairly impressive. There are all sizes and kinds of pans and pots. Braising pans, casserole pans, wonder pots, stockpots, saucepans, a wok, a pie pan, a cake tin and, _good god_ , is that a small griddle? Rob had said that Mark really did enjoy cooking but he never thought that he would have things that a proper cook would only have. Gary has the feeling that if Mark wasn’t out for the weekend the kitchen would be stocked with food as well. Which… says a lot about Rob, doesn’t it? Why is Gary finding that kind of lack of responsibility so endearing?

“I kinda love how hard Stockholm syndrome is hitting you.” Rob points out while Gary’s filling one of the saucepans with water. Rob’s looking at him, settled with his bum on one of the kitchen counters. “And I was so ready to gag you to make you stay,” he says pointedly rising his eyebrows with that wide delighted smile that Gary came to adore on display now.

“Well, there’s an idea,” Gary counters interested, using every strength he has not to let his body react to the _actual_ idea of Rob gagging him. He shouldn’t be this intrigued all of a sudden, should he? But the image of Rob taking control of him in such manner is making Gary uneasy in a fantastic way and---- he needs to stop entertaining that fantasy, at least for the time being. He’s still holding the pan, for god sakes. This could very easily become and embarrassing mess if he’s not at least a bit careful.

“Sucking cock is bringing all sorts of beautiful colors out of you.” Of course that’s what Rob decides to say just when Gary’s about to leave the saucepan on the stove; words altering him enough that he’s dropping it half a second before he should; the metallic noise of kitchenware against burner making Gary’s delightful unsettledness evident.

“Alright, alright,” Gary tries while collecting himself, grinning naturally. “Let me do this before I forget how well you’ve been treating me all weekend and I reconsider if my Stockholm syndrome is justified or not.” He says in a tone that should really not be such evidence of how contented he is with their banter.

Or with them finding enough comfort in each other to have these playful moments, followed by a shared and almost mesmerized smile that lasts a beat too long.

Or with how much that notion warms his chest.

Yes, _mostly_ that.

***

Fighting it was pointless. It really fucking was. Therefore, Rob decided hours ago he wouldn’t anymore. Fuck it. Fuck _it_ , and _this_ , and _everything_. He was done trying not to be himself with Gary and he was done trying to keep his distance.

This weekend had an expiration date and that was all Rob needed to know to stop the internal struggle. This would end and everything that happened this weekend would be forgotten. He’d be _safe_. Might as well enjoy this fucking thing instead of repressing the shit out of things he just _wanted_ to do. Like kissing and touching Gary without the need of turning those actions into anything else. Or talk to Gary about his friends and dangerously personal things. Like—getting to know Gary, alright? Maybe letting Gary know him as well, only a little bit. Whatever. It wasn’t _important_. He wanted to do it and he was the fucking worst at repressing himself.

Gary would find out soon enough Rob was a shitty person, so--- it made no difference if he opened up a little or a lot. Of course he was not about to get all sentimental and talk about his most profound issues, but. Well. He would fucking hug Gary with no apparent reason if he wanted to and he would peck his forehead if he felt like it and, fucking hell, he would very much grab his hand and caress his palm with inexplicable fondness if he fucking felt the need to do it.

He could let himself _be_ , because this will all come to an end soon. There was no real danger, was there?

Nope. No danger and that’s that.

Maybe a bit too much garlic, but no danger. Or… was there a thing as _too much_ garlic? That sounds like an impossibility, Rob thinks. There is no such thing as too much garlic, ever. And even though they would sure as fuck feel it in each other’s breath when they kiss, that tomato sauce was incredible. Gary just made a great tomato sauce with a lot of garlic in his underwear. And Rob got to ogle him while he cooked. Life was being really fucking good to Rob.

“Oh, jeez, dude… that was incredible.” Rob blurs out, visibly satisfied and leaving his fork on the table. He really needed to stop eating. He was sure he ate for a fucking army already, he was feeling extremely full.

“I’m glad you liked it.” Gary raises a smile, grabbing his glass to take a sip of some cheap wine they found open in the fridge. Rob should really do some grocery shopping at some point, he considers.

“No, really… that was amazing. Mark’s gonna be jealous.” Rob admits smiling widely. “Or maybe he’ll just ask you for the recipe.” It really was that good. Rob’s impressed. And a little outraged because _of course_ this would have to be yet another thing Mr. Gary Barlow was good at. At this point he should really befriend the idea that Gary was sent here to fucking torture his existence. With that in mind, of course, Rob couldn’t stop grinning like the self-destructive asshole he was.  “Where did you learn how to do that anyways?” Rob decides to ask.

“Family recipe,” Gary supplies. “Me mum’s not much of a cook, really. I mean, after all it is just tomato sauce?” he says all deprecating and Rob wants to kiss him and shut him up. But he seriously can’t move he ate so much.  So he watches Gary shrug a little and give him a shy smile that has Rob’s full attention. “She taught me how to make it when I was 11 and now I just use it every time I want to impress someone with my cooking skills.” Gary admits with a playful tone.

“Oh, sneaky;” Rob looks a bit impressed and also, no, he’s _not_ thinking about other people Gary might’ve cooked this for. It’s not important and irrelevant as fuck. _What even was that?_

“I can be, yes.” Gary admits trying to sound enchanting and unfairly succeeding completely, if Rob can say so. He shakes his head a little and represses a sigh, while trying not to look directly at Gary. Rob doesn’t think that stupid hint of misplaced jealousy was something Gary could read in his face but he’d rather not risk it. He’s being ridiculous. He’s not a jealous guy, especially with people he was supposed to just fuck, enjoy and leave once the weekend was over. “You know what’s missing here?” Gary thankfully changes the subject by asking and shifting slightly on his sit to reach out for Rob’s empty plate.

Immediately Rob stops him grabbing his own plate. Gary cooked, least he can do it pick up the dishes. “Enlighten me” he answers, raising his eyebrows, absolutely ready to let go of all that bullshit he was thinking before.

“Music,” Gary suggests and, yes. That’s a great excuse for Rob to find a second of clean air so he can gather his fucking chill. “Would you do the honors while I put the dishes away?” Gary bargains.

“My pleasure, sugar” Rob easily accepts and gives him a quiet smirk that, he’s sure, looks nothing but natural. Instead of staying there to find out if Gary noticed, he gets up and walks towards the living room where the stereo is.

When he gets there he takes a couple of seconds to just breathe. He can’t do this, be like this. He’s already letting himself do a lot of fucking things but _this?_ The jealousy? Feeling that kind of shit is fucking out of place. Gary can do whatever the fuck he wants, obviously. He doesn’t owe Rob shit and, on top of that, is not like there is anything to feel jealous about. Gary hasn’t been with dudes before, but he’s been with girls, Rob knows that. That’s not what he means. What he means is that there is nothing between them, really. Nothing serious and Rob _wants_ that, he thinks. It’s what he _needs_ , to all kind of seriousness be out of the picture and… if that were fucking true he shouldn’t be feeling fucking jealousy for some ridiculous imaginary person Gary might’ve cooked for. _Fucking hell_.

He forces all of those thoughts to the back of his head while he flips through their (Mark and Rob’s) cassette collection. Mark has such a weird taste in music; weirdly eclectic, Rob always thought and finding one of Gloria Estefan’s early albums is making him smile automatically. Mostly because he remembers Mark’s drunken ass dancing “Mi tierra” with such conviction he could’ve easily passed for one of Estefan’s back up dancers. The memory successfully making Rob forget for all of two minutes about that weird jealousy thing.

“Fucking hell” Rob mutters to himself shaking his head. Feeling like an idiot and ignoring all the other insults his head has for him, he finds the cassette he was looking for. With a loud frustrated sigh he takes it out of the case and puts it in the stereo. He should rewind it but considers it too much of an effort, so Rob simply presses play. It isn’t until he’s finding his way back to the kitchen that he realizes what fucking song is starting.

_Seriously?_

The fucking universe must be against him because “Love Me Tender” is coming out of the fucking speakers and when he picked Elvis’ Jailhouse Rock EP he thought something upbeat like Jailhouse fucking Rock would lighten up the mood. And now there it is; Elvis singing one hell of a romantic song. A song Rob loves that suddenly seems like a fucking dagger through his throat for some reason and he can’t make sense of that. Most importantly, he _refuses_ to make sense of that feeling in his chest.

Alright. Time to play it cool. If he can do something, he can do that. Because Gary can’t for a fucking second think that this was on purpose. That would be a disaster.

Only… when he gets back to the kitchen, Gary is standing next to the table absolutely static with his eyes fixed on the kitchen tiles like they are the most interesting thing in the world. He looks like… well, like the seeming song choice caught him off guard as well. Rob clears his throat and he is ready to ride this, ignore the obvious tension suddenly heavy and brush this off as if it’s nothing special. Because it’s not, alright? Just an honest mistake. His heart beating loudly in his chest be damned.

“Hope you don’t have any kind of problem with the King.” Rob says like it’s the most natural thing in the world to say. Or he tries to, because he’s not entirely successful. The words coming out too fast, his tone slightly off and he’s eyes are everywhere but on Gary.

 _Love me tender, love me sweet, take me to your heart_.  And it’s fucking ludicrous, all of this is, alright? Rob’s not in love with Gary. Of course he’s not. He wasn’t in love yesterday when Gary sang to him; he’s not in love now. That truth is still applicable. This is not how love works and even though Rob’s not the most experienced in that area, he knows that falling in love with someone requires more than great sex and a bit less than two days worth of conversations. Even though he’s heard Jay say a hundred times that you can’t understand the proper “functioning” of love and that the word “falling” is used for a reason, that you can’t predict when your heart will be hit and that you won’t be able to do a thing but let go--- Rob doesn’t _believe_ it. Jay just tends to be insufferably poetic sometimes and that doesn’t mean he holds the truth about life, even when his words make fucking sense. Rob’s not a teenager and he refuses to think that what he’s learnt about Gary these past hours is enough for him to be having his chest warmed by Elvis fucking Presley singing a declaration of devotion in Gary’s presence.

He is _not_ in love. He is not even falling. But--- looking at him, Rob thinks he honestly could. Thought more tangible than ever. Gary’s comfortable in his kitchen, wearing only his underwear and smiling shyly at Rob, with his arms crossed like he’s trying to make himself smaller and he looks just… so, so _lovely_. That’s what Gary is. He’s annoyingly lovely from head to toes. He’s interesting, sweet, talented and funny. He’s brave, centered and just… warm. He could so easily fall in love with Gary and he could so easily give into this need of wanting him around for a very long time. He could and for the longest seconds Rob can’t really say another word, lost… so fucking lost in the way Gary’s eyes are on him now, getting under his damn skin.

“Absolutely none” Gary is the one that talks, shaking his head slightly. “None at all” He repeats, beaming and letting those gorgeous light blue eyes shine locked on Rob’s. One, two, three, four… long ten seconds later, neither of them is saying a word and is not--- it’s not weird or awkward. It’s everything but. Elvis is still serenating them and nothing seems to mind other than that. And it _should_ feel wrong, it _should_ be uncomfortable and Rob _should_ be fucking stopping this right fucking now.  Only---

Only--- fuck it really. _Who cares?_ He doesn’t want to. Doesn’t want to do anything that would make Gary stop looking at him like that. He doesn’t want to interrupt whatever it is that is happening in Gary’s head and he can’t fucking fight the way his chest feels open and balmy and--- it’s alright. _This will all end eventually_ , he reminds himself.

“Wait…” Gary is the one letting out words again. He raises his eyebrows and an exaggerated expression takes over his face. Rob should be worried, but he’s not. That expression is taunting and nothing that makes Rob feel threatened or uneasy. At least not in a bad way, which Rob is sure doesn’t make any sense. Gary takes two steps in his direction and he stretches his arm, holding out his hand “Mr. Williams, would you care to dance with me?” he asks politely and playfully at the same time and Rob might be dying. How can this man in front of him be even a possibility? How can this dork be so fucking enchanting?

“Shit” Rob murmurs biting on his lip. But without even thinking, he’s grabbing Gary’s hand gently and getting closer to him.

“Promise I won’t grope you,” Gary jokes posing his other hand on Rob’s lower back.

“I can’t promise the same” Rob warns him, taunting a little but not really lying, he’s afraid. He can’t help but laugh when Gary’s response to that is simply to tighten his grip on Rob’s back, bringing them closer to each other.

And it’s great. It’s absolutely destructive and amazing. The way Gary’s holding him and Rob’s resting his head on Gary’s shoulder while they try to follow the rhythm of one of the most beautiful songs ever written. The way the moment just embraces them or… how they are embracing the moment? Whatever. It’s something that feels heavy and so fucking important that, of course, Rob is fully aware that is damaging as hell.

And Rob--- _he loves it_.

The seconds pass, none of them even bothered with another word. They simply dance in each other’s arms to The King mocking the shit out of Rob. Their bodies close, so close he can feel Gary’s heart beating on his own chest. So close he can feel Gary’s breathing on his beck. So close he feels his entire body acting out and not in a desperate way. Not in a way that is making him want to take Gary in this fucking table, not exactly. This closeness is making him hard again and he’s not desperate about doing something about it. Which is new. He’s getting worked up and he’s enjoying it, no matter where it leads. With no fucking urgency what so ever. _Shit… this is bad_.

“You’re a great dancer.” Rob murmurs, his mouth hidden on the hollow of Gary’s shoulder.

“’m really not,” Gary denies in a soft voice and Rob can listen to the clear smile on Gary’s lips.

Rob’s own smile gets wider and he moves one of his hands to the back of Gary’s neck. “Well, whatever you’re doing is working for me,” he says enlighteningly “and also, it’s _really_ working for me.” He decides to let Gary know, pointedly now, by moving his hip a little against him. Not looking for anything in particular, not really. He’s just playing. He’s enjoying this. He’s just… so fucked, basically. And it all gets worse when he can feel Gary hiding his face in Rob’s neck. He literally tried to hide while his hold got a bit tighter around Rob’s waist. Oh, and then, as if that wasn’t adorable enough, he let out a very dorky laugh muffled by his lips pressing Rob’s skin.

Rob frowns curiously and moves his head enough just so he can look at Gary. “Are you really---” _oh, well, look at that, that’s fucking unfair._ “Are you really blushing over a boner after all we’ve been doing?” Rob honestly asks because he not only can see the slightly reddish tone bathing Gary’s cheeks but also because he just felt he wasn’t the only one here with his dick suddenly interested. Yeah, Gary’s an absolute dork and Rob’s really into that. Into _him_. Into whatever Gary decides to do, apparently. “Just when I thought you couldn’t get any more amazing.” He finds himself thinking out loud, smiling widely like an idiot and slightly biting his lower lip.

“And you, apparently, get meaner and meaner by the minute” Gary accuses him, only he does it with a fond expression and no bashful expression anymore.

“I can be worse.” Rob warns and, admittedly, he’s not really lying. Gary hasn’t seen shit yet. Or he might not get to see shit at all, Rob reminds himself.

“I don’t doubt it.” Gary nods softly with a tone that is almost understanding. And Rob should laugh. He really should because of the cruelty of it all. Gary has no fucking clue just how mean Rob can be. Or, shit, _will_ be.

No, Gary doesn’t understand shit and Rob wishes he would. It’s becoming evident, that’s the thing. With the way Gary keeps looking at him and talking about things they could do outside these walls, with how Gary keeps being just as sweet as Rob only without this clear deadline in his head. It’s evident that Rob is going to hurt Gary. By doing all this shit, he’s going to hurt him. He knows. He’s getting there. He’s becoming aware of how much of a dick he’s going to be to Gary.

And… he hates that.

But he doesn’t hate it enough to stop this now, apparently. Because he is an asshole and because he just doesn’t want to let go just yet. Rob wants to enjoy this, just a little bit longer. Gary will survive this, of course he would. After all Rob is only the first in a lot of people that are going to be lucky enough to be with this incredible man. And there are a lot that are going to come after him that will know how to give him what Rob _can’t._

And that thought… Rob _hates_ that thought. Hates it. Deeply. _Seriously_.

Well, fuck. Rob’s digging himself a pretty little whole here, isn’t he? Drowning in his own water glass.

“How about that dessert now?” Rob hears that question coming from Gary, even when he’s feeling fucking overwhelmed by his own head that won’t just shut the fuck up. And before he can say something he will regret; he forces himself to nod.

_Sure. Dessert; that could work._

“Come on…” Rob says exhausted. Gary looks at him with a funny look on his face but Rob doesn’t give him the time to ask. He just grabs Gary’s hand and drags him towards the living room again. He supposed Gary finished with the dishes and if he didn’t, Rob doesn’t really give a fuck. They’ll take care of that later. Right now, he needs to do something else, something less domestic, maybe.

~ ~

So, because Rob’s entire existence isn’t making any sense and he’s not paying attention to what his head is telling him to do, somehow “something less domestic” means they end up sitting on the floor only in their underwear, drinking the last of that already opened bottle of wine and eating dessert. Well, is not so much dessert as it is half a pack of skittles that Mark was hiding in his nightstand but it will do. Mark won’t mind; besides, Rob will make sure to buy him a new one to make up for it. But it’s not the point. The point is that they end up comfortably scattered on the floor, not even using glasses anymore and for a couple of minutes not even talking to each other.

Rob’s silence comes from a place of _too much_. He’s immersed in his own head, trying not to think, trying not to go on overdrive. He’s lost in his own head while he lets the wine clear his head. And it’s working. Sort of. Slowly; but it is working. Only one thought effectively calming his mind. The one that says that Gary’s not about to be a fixture in Rob’s future.

Gary’s silence? Well, comes from a similar place. In the sense that he’s also thinking about something in particular. Enjoying the silence but also soaking in his own thoughts. Not that Rob noticed. Not that it’s necessary either.

“Rob?” Gary decides to break the silence without actually moving from his place on the floor.

“Yes?” Rob answers once he’s gulp down the last of the wine without spilling anything, which he considers a victory because his back is fully resting on the floor in the position he’s refusing to change.

“Could I ask you… when did you---” Gary starts and he looks like he’s thinking thoroughly the words he’s about to use before he does. Rob knows he needs to pay attention to whatever it is the other man is about to say. “I mean, when did you first know you liked men?” he cocks his head in Rob’s direction.

“Oh…” Rob wasn’t expecting that question. Not now anyways. Actually, he expected it before but somehow managed to forget they never talked about it. _Could he speak to Gary about this?_ That question dances in his head for not more than a second and he’s ready to laugh at himself for even doubting. Of course he can. He has this unbearable feeling he can talk to Gary about anything, one that is so natural. One he never felt before. One that, sometimes, suffocates him. Then again, maybe he shouldn’t say this because he knows that this is all new to Gary and maybe… well, maybe Rob’s afraid he’ll discover some things about Gary he doesn’t want to unveil. Oh well. What the hell, right? If Gary ends up being a dick deep down, against everything Rob learnt about Gary these days, then so be it. He reckons that might not be such a bad thing. He could use learning something negative about fucking Gary Barlow.

Rob moves after a few seconds and sits on the floor, leaning over the end of the couch and smiles slightly to no one in particular. “I kind of always knew” he guesses out loud. He never put it in words, not like this. It’s been a while since he let himself go down through memory lane about his sexual awakening. Not because it’s hard but because… he thinks it’s pointless. Things were what they were. Difficult at times, painful at others and mostly bearable thanks to his Granma. And… _that’s_ why he doesn’t let himself think about it that much. The memories. But that’s not what Gary asked, isn’t it? “I dunno, it was like a natural thing for me. I was pretty much raised by my grandmother and she… she was an amazing woman, she didn’t give a shit about any kind of bullshit so she never really made me feel like liking boys wasn’t a natural thing.” Yeah, Gary didn’t ask but Rob included his Nana anyways. How could he not? “Then I got older and I told my father I liked one of my classmates when I was like eleven,” Rob continued, looking at a disgusting stain he noticed in the carpet. Just so he’s not looking at Gary. “That’s the first time my father tried to convince me that liking boys was not alright,” he simply put it and raised his eyebrows; “but sure as fuck not the last,” he finished and let out a sigh he didn’t even notice he was repressing.

And he wouldn’t even had noticed if it weren’t for Gary, who’s first reaction was to sweetly caress the back of Rob hands with his own, holding it slightly but meaningfully. “I’m sorry about that,” Gary let out with an impossibly honest tone.

One that only had Rob letting out an equally honest and bitter laugh.

“My dad’s an asshole, like most people in the world.” To Rob’s knowledge that is 100% true. That’s what he’s seen, that’s what he’s experienced. The world is a fucking awful place when you are a dude and like cock and decide to be open about it. It wasn’t a deprecating or even sarcastic comment. It was what he so honestly believed. “I like having my ass fucked and sucking balls, amongst a lot of other things. It’s my thing,” Rob stated, even though no one was actually questioning him. “I’m not sorry about that.” He finished looking at Gary, wondering what his thought on this was. What kind of person was he going to be now that he knew he liked cock? What kind of person was he before this too?

“You shouldn’t.” He answered with an incredibly confident and almost defensive tone. “Of course you shouldn’t,” Gary added emphatically with his brow knitted as if he was indignant of the idea of anyone thinking something different. That made Rob smile.

“Not when I’m that good at it, right?” Rob decides to joke. Because joking is easier, isn’t it? That makes Gary smile almost a proud smile, which makes no sense because Rob was not actually complementing him. Why would he look so stoked about Rob being proud of sucking balls?

“Not when you’re really damn good at it even if you’re fishing for compliments,” Gary taunts and supported by his knees and hands on the carpet decides to moves closer to Rob. He looks absolutely delicious in that position. He looks delicious in all positions; Rob has to admit to himself. Rob smiles and places a hand on Gary’s shoulder, half hugging him when he places his sweet ass next to where Rob is sitting now, almost mimicking his position.

He looks at Gary inquiring before talking, “How about you? Like, I know--- well, you said I’m your first but did you really never felt the need to maybe even kiss another dude?” It could happen, Rob supposes. It sounds foreign to him, but it could happen.

“No… or, well, maybe.” Gary starts and he’s sporting that expression Rob already came to knowing pretty well. Gary’s evaluating his words before speaking. The first time Rob noticed it, he asked him to stop thinking so much, but now that it happened a couple of times, he’s coming to understand that’s part of Gary. Of how important are words to him, how much he wants to be precise when he says them out loud. Rob likes that. It’s so the opposite of Rob, he can’t help but like it. “I mean, I’m not repressed or a prude, you know?”  Gary continues, clarifying something that, honestly, Rob had thought before. Now long forgotten because Gary seems a lot of things, but not a prude. Maybe a bit too… _prudent_ ; but not really a prude. “It’s just that being with women was always… easier. It was what was expected and never thought I was missing something… It was never really bad, don’t get me wrong. But… I just never thought sex could be this--- intense. Or… incredible” he says that part a little shyly and Rob can’t do nothing but bite the inside of his cheek to stop the smile emerging from his mouth. “Well, until you that is.” Yeah, Rob is definitely biting the inside of his cheek to the point where he’s about to draw blood from it. It shouldn’t feel this fucking good to hear Gary say that. Not with this intensity. Damn.

“What about your parents?” he decides asking, because damn it if it’s relevant. He knows exactly how his parents would react if he brings back the “Liking Cock Situation” to the table. Not that he’s hiding. It’s just that he knows that certain things he will never be able to talk about with the two bigoted assholes that gave him life. But Rob had time to chew on that, years to digest it. Gary… well, he hasn’t, has he?  “Like, where do they stand in all this? If—well, if telling them is something you wanna do I mean” he shrugs slightly, trying not to make a heavy question slightly lighter.

“Well, obviously I didn’t have time to talk to them about… any of this” Rob nods, full attention on Gary’s expression and how his eyes go down slightly “but it is in my plans, yes” he finishes with a sort of mixed up expression. “Haven’t thought about it that much, to be quite honest” he goes on after a heavy sight, obviously the subject getting to him but without losing a glint of optimism Rob can’t really understand. “But… my parents are, well, to put it lightly I’ll say they are very liberal people” he assures, with a simple smile, letting Rob know that there is a long story he’s not telling behind that statement. Probably anecdotes. It’s not fucking fair that Rob want to listen to them. “I don’t think they’ll have a problem with me liking a bloke” Gary guesses, “or… blokes I mean, in general” he ends up correcting himself.

Only that Rob doesn’t catch that, because his head is already somewhere else. “You’re lucky” he murmurs without even realizing he was talking out loud. He sighs and looks back at Gary. “You realize that, don’t you?”

“Yeah…” Gary answers without ever losing eyes contact, holding it like he’s trying to say so much more to Rob with that simple assertion. “I don’t know what I would do if they--- well, if they disapproved of this, I guess” he finally concludes, clearly not talking about his parents at all. Rob can tell. He was so sure about them a second ago, about them being okay with whatever Gary wanted to do with his dick. Rob understands without acknowledging that Gary’s talking about Rob’s personal situation.

“You’d get over it” Rob says firmly, diverting his eyes “You’d had to” he hisses.

“I don’t think it would be that simple for me,” Gary tries and Rob can feel Gary’s eyes on him, patiently. _That fucker_. Rob knows what Gary’s doing. He’s unto him. He doesn’t care.

“Is not fucking simple but you’d have to either way, trust me.” Rob utters with a frustrated but not aggressively, not at all. “What’s the option? Giving up cock? Pretending you don’t want it? Hiding who you are?” he shakes his head one, two, three times. No way. That will never be his life. That should never be anyone’s life. “Yeah, that would make you fucking miserable.”

“Did you ever try to hide it?” Gary asks now, same calm tone, only now he’s holding Rob’s hand and… when did that even happen?

Rob moves his hand so they are fully holding each other’s now.

“Yeah, for like 10 minutes. When I was younger…” Rob has to laugh somewhat bitterly because the memory is sour but also ridiculous as fuck. How he ever thought he could hide it, he’ll never know. “It didn’t work, let me tell you that” he assures and raises his eyebrows, “I mean, I like chicks too you know? So I only had to let my parents see the girls I dated and hide the dudes” he feels sick even remembering that. Remembering how desperate he was at one point to avoid conflict with his own father that he did something so stupid like hide who he was. “Well, “dated” it’s just a PC word for "fucking" but whatever--” not the point, is it? “But I only did it once, and I got a very disturbing “I’m very proud of you liking pussy and forgetting all about the cock” speech from my father.” Rob tries to mimic his father’s voice and instantly puts a disgusted expression. “He looked so satisfied with himself for raising a good ol’ straight pig… I almost threw up in my mouth” and to be quite honest, his father doesn’t hold that much power over him now, but the memories still makes him fucking uneasy.

“After that--- I had to fucking face that I couldn’t talk to them about any of this crap.” He decides to conclude it that way because it is what it is. “And now I don’t give a fuck anymore, you know? They are bigoted assholes who happened to be my parents but they are nothing more than that to me.” He admits not for the first time and simply shrugs. _It is what it is._ “Back then… if it wasn’t for my granny--- I don’t know where I’d be now.” Rob almost whispers with his eyes fixated on Gary’s finger gently rubbing Rob’s skin.

“Maybe you’re lucky too… you had her, right? You weren’t completely alone.” Gary says with a hopeful tone and… no.

“I wouldn’t really use the word _lucky_ ” Rob snaps, shaking his head, taking his hand back. Yes, he is lucky to have had her in his life, but he can’t use that word now. Not anymore. Not since she--- not when she’s not around anymore.

“Well, maybe not but---” Gary tries to amend as if he said something wrong, as if Rob’s reaction was acceptable. Not that Rob can notice that at the moment. His blood feels too thick in his veins. That word. He understand Gary’s intentions, why he used it but it doesn’t make the fact that he felt everything but lucky since--- well, in a very long time.

“Drop it, Gary” he decides to interrupt Gary, because he doesn’t want to hear this. “I don’t wanna talk about this shit anymore.” He tells Gary that much without hesitating even though he can feel his hands starting to tremble slightly.

Gary stays silent only for a couple of seconds that end up feeling like minutes to Rob in the heavy air of the room. “I’m sorry---“ Gary murmurs with such honesty in his eyes, Rob can’t help but feel himself backing down. He closes his eyes the moment he listens to Gary say “I didn’t mean to offend you or diminish anything about what you’ve been through, you know?”

“I know” Of course Rob knows. This is his own bullshit. It’s been his own bullshit since forever and he knows that very fucking well, thank you very much. “It’s not you, ok? Just… I don’t like talking about losing her or—any of that shit.” Rob admits opening his eyes and wincing inside at the seeming hurt in Gary’s eyes. He can’t have that. He can’t… he’s gonna do a lot worse to Gary but not now. Now he can’t be the one to put that expression on his face.

So he needs to do something and quick. He has to ease the guilt in this stupid boy’s face because he realizes that now he can. He won’t in the future, but he can now. So he makes a deal with himself. Or _another_ deal with himself but, details. Details aren’t important now. He won’t let Gary do anything but smile because of him. At least until this whole shit is over. Yeah, he can do that.

Rob goes cups Gary’s face with both of his hands and makes him look at him for only two seconds before his smiling slightly and kissing his lips. Sweetly and deeply. He makes it a point to show Gary with that kiss that it is ok. That he can’t talk about his granny, but he understands what Gary is trying to do. And, as much as it annoys the shit out of him the insistence of this guy, he appreciates it. Because he understands. He wishes he wouldn’t, but he thinks he understands. And… oh, Gary is so stupid, isn’t he? Caring. Not only being nice, but actually caring.

Gary’s just as stupid as Rob is, apparently.

“Lemme ask you, tho… Why now?” he says in a low voice without moving from Gary’s lips. C _lose, close, close_. “I mean, why me? You might’ve thought about it in the past, so why the fuck now?” Rob wonders and that’s been bugging him. Only slightly, but he has to ask. He has to ask wondering what Gary has to say as to why is he being so, _so_ stupid. “Was it my looks?” Rob tries, joking lightening the mood.

“Yes, of course” Gary says without missing a beat with a straight face but then relaxes his face, smiling. “But it wasn’t just that… I can’t really explain it, though. I just felt it. You—" he stops for to bite his lip and lets out a deprecating small laugh before continuing.  “You sort of mesmerized me,” Gary admits, still _close, close, close_ to Rob and cupping Rob’s hands with his own, holding them on Gary’s face. “Don’t laugh at me, okay?  But it was everything you did, every single thing.” Rob can feel the heat of Gary’s words on his face, he can feel the closeness becoming more intense, can’t help but _fucking feel_ Gary’s words. This is bad. This is astronomically bad. “You, smug bastard, put me on the spot and made me feel like a bloody idiot in front of everybody and after you made me as angry as I ever was, you decided to kiss me.” Gary’s voice is soft, like a confession. Sweet as the perfect candy Rob should be allergic to. “You were irritating,” Gary lets out a small laugh again, only this one is fond as fuck and Rob kinda loves it, his heart is letting him know just how much with the force of his heartbeats. “And made me dizzy when you showed up again… being the exact opposite of that. But in that same manner, you did what you wanted to do and I sort of loved that” Gary’s thumb is not ghosting over Rob’s skin and it’s all too much. Too much and not enough and Rob’s not sure how he’s not losing his fucking mind over this, but he’s not. “Like I said, stupefying” he finishes and closes his eyes before gently giving Rob and unnecessarily sweet eskimo kiss that feels like a fucking stab in his gut. One that he likes a bit too much. _Fuck, this is bad_. “Or maybe you’re just bloody fit and I’m looking for excuses, we’ll never know” Gary finishes on a lighter note and laughs drowning Rob’s face in the warmth of his breath.

“Don’t worry, sugar… you’ll hate me in no time.” Rob murmurs without even moving from his place, realizing he too closed his eyes.

“I really doubt I could hate you, Rob” is what Gary says and Rob could tragically laugh at that. But he doesn’t. He kisses the shit out of Gary’s lips instead.

_Stupid. The both of them, so fucking stupid._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Come talk to me on [Tumblr](http://marea707.tumblr.com/) (:  
> [This](http://marea707.tumblr.com/tagged/fic%3A-1993) is the tag I have specially for this au.


	7. Well I Can't Help But Be Scared of it all Sometimes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It’s time, Rob. Be strong and say goodbye.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not many notes about this chapter. Sorry it was later than I promised, but I'm trying :3 I'm just so glad people are still interested <33  
> Hopefully all the internal struggle and fluff won't bore you guys.
> 
> Title for the chapter from a Matchbox Twenty song called “3 AM.” (Not at all relevant to the Fic: if you, for some weird reason, don’t know Matchbox Twenty you should really go and listen to their album “Yourself or Someone like you.” Back in the 90s it changed my life, not even exaggerating)
> 
> Thanks [Libby](http://elerinwen.tumblr.com/) for being my co creator, beta, editor and overall goddess, basically <3

Gary’s looking out the window of Rob’s living room. Outside is snowing; it’s been snowing for the past hour or so. He supposes that at some point it might’ve stopped, but he was too busy not paying attention to anything outside these walls to notice.

It’s Monday night and not a lot has changed since yesterday. Or. Well. Maybe a lot has changed but a lot is still the same, that’s what he means. He’s still in Rob’s dorm, still half naked, still enjoying the company of the most interesting man he’s met in ages. Maybe ever, god. That part’s still the same. They’ve been sharing so many things these past two days and Gary’s not fully aware of what that means but he is aware, though, of some other things that he definitely wasn’t aware of hours ago. Like the way he feels about Rob, mainly.

And yes, no one needs to tell him that they’ve _only_ spent days together. That a lot of the things he’s feeling are absolutely… out of place, in a way. It’s fast, that’s what he knows. Everything with Rob has been fast, since the very first time they met. And it scares him a little. Scares him a lot, if he’s being honest. But it also makes this even more unbelievable. In a good way. Well, almost entirely good way. Because there’s still the undeniable reality that even though he can see in Rob that he’s warming up to Gary, that doesn’t mean that he is… you know, _feeling_ too. It certainly doesn’t mean that he feels butterflies in his stomach when he looks at him with those warm eyes, like Gary feels. No, of course not. And that’s the part that scares Gary. Because he’s aware of what he’s feeling, how ridiculous he’s being, how--- fucked he is, mostly. He knows what it means that he feels his heart beat faster when Rob touches him with care. He knows that it goes beyond physical attraction for him. He knows what it means that he adores the way Rob talks about his grandma, how much he loved her. He knows what it means that he’s in awe of how strong and full of conviction Rob is. He knows what it means that he feels amazed when Rob explains to him how he feels about the world and how passionate he is about his music.

He’s very much aware that he is… well, ‘ _screwed’_ is the word, if you ask him in his moments of negativity. If you’d ask him when he’s being a bit more positive, then he’d say he’s aware he’s falling.

He’s on his way. He could be there. In no time, if things continue the way they’ve been these past days. And that’s too quick. That’s alarming almost.

And there’s nothing he can do about it. Of course he could leave, right? But he’s not entirely sure he wants to.

No, that’s not right. Actually, he’s very much certain he has no interest in leaving this place or Rob’s side just yet. And even though he knows this could very much not have a good satisfying outcome… well, he’s still here, isn’t he? And no, he still doesn’t want to leave.

And thank god for long weekends, really, because part of him feels that every second he spends in this place is a second to treasure. And it’s ridiculous, he reckons. There is a world outside, there is a tomorrow, there’s snow, classes and places and people and plans. They’ve made plans. They talked about watching movies and going places. Or, well, Gary talked about those things but Rob never said no, he actually looked somewhat enthusiastic about some of those possible arrangements; therefore, Gary assumes it’s alright.

The point is, there is a tomorrow and he can easily see Rob tomorrow. Or the day after that. Or a week from now. Nothing in this weekend has indicated that this is going to end when Gary leaves this dorm and still, part of him feels like something will change once he’s out the door. It’s not something logical, it’s just something he feels. And it’s bugging him, that. Because he is a rational man. Always been. And now, he’s letting irrational fears cloud something that has been great. Absolutely wonderful. Definitely a weekend for the books, if he says so himself.

In the term of a bit less than 72 hours he’s experienced so many new things, felt so many new things… he’s sure that he won’t be able to process them, not fully. Not any time soon. Like he said, _fast_. He needs time to actually process what has happened these two days. But he’s riding everything he’s feeling and he’s actually leaving the _thinking_ part for later. For, probably, the first time in his entire life. It just… feels too damn magnificent to let anything ruin what his heart is so determined to treasure already.

“It looks like it’s fucking freezing outside” Rob’s voice is soft against his ear, his arms wrapping Gary so warmly. And it feels so… nice. So damn lovely.

“It sure does,” he answers, his eyes still looking out the window but his body sort of melting against Rob’s. “It’s going to be particularly fun when I have to run back to my dorm in this weather,” he comments, really, not going for anything in particular. He’s not fishing for an invite to stay and he is, most definitely, not trying to sound miserable.

He is _not_.

Still. Apparently, Rob picks up on it. After these past days, Rob’s starting to pick up on a lot of things that Gary’s not saying. He only hopes that Rob’s not picking up on _everything_ , really. So, yeah, maybe Rob notices and that’s why he says “You don’t have to,” under his breath. Or maybe he’s just responding to the way Gary’s moving against him pointedly and maybe his arse is rubbing a little too obviously against Rob’s crotch and that’s why he only murmurs the words instead of using a stronger voice.

Gary responds by slightly tilting his head back, so he has access to Rob’s neck, and mumbling a “Uhm?” that’s supposed to be a question, a _“what was that?”_ sort of question but his lips are a little too busy kissing Rob’s skin.

“Not right now, I mean…” Rob answers, not too focused on what he was initially saying, more interested in running his hands all over Gary’s bare chest and using them to press him a bit closer to his own body.

“Well, not right now… I think I’m trying to make you see I have better plans for _right now_.” And maybe Gary sounds cheeky, but he thinks he’s allowed, considering Rob’s immediate response, how he can feel him slowly swelling up against the crack of his bum over his pants.

“Yeah…” Rob sort of acknowledges the idea but Gary notices he’s getting off track the second his lips are tentatively trapping Rob’s earlobe. But he tries, Rob does. “Yeah, I’m liking your offer… but—” and Gary frowns at that because he might not be really experienced in this area but a “but” in this situations is never a good thing, is it? “but I mean you can stay… until tomorrow?” is what Rob says and Gary pretty much stops everything he’s doing.

Not because he’s not into it, mind. His heart is already pounding at the anticipation of it all. But… “Ahm… I mean, I would… Or, I can. But it’s already Monday…” he doubts, a million things rushing through his head. Mostly a loud _‘Yes!’_ followed by a ‘ _maybe you should leave and let him rest_ ’ or something just as unconvincing.

“I don’t have courses tomorrow and you said you don’t have any early classes, right?” Rob reminds him, his hands not really leaving Gary’s chest, only now they are touching him a lot more cautiously than five seconds ago.

“Isn’t Mark coming back?” is what Gary asks because he’s just thinking it’s the polite thing to do. Remind Rob that even if he’s on his way to being a bit turned on right now, they both have a life they should at least pretend they want to go back to.

“Not until tomorrow,” Rob informs. “He called earlier while you were in the shower,” he’s elaborating on the detail and he sounds a bit put off now, which is understandable, Gary realizes. It’s not that he’s looking for excuses, at all. He’d stay here until he has to go back to England in six months, if you ask him right now. But he’s suddenly aware that it sounds like he is trying to say no without actually saying no. And before he can say anything, Rob’s speaking again. His hands are nowhere near Gary’s chest now; they are merely in contact with his forearms. Like he’s about to put some distance between them, Gary thinks. “You don’t want to stay?” the feeling of rejection all over that question, even though Rob’s putting a nice effort in masking it.

And no, that is not an acceptable thing for Rob to think. “No, I do.” Gary rushes to answer and moves on his place to be facing Rob now “but… do you really want me to?” he asks, instead of explaining his actions. When did it become so hard to explain himself?

Rob smiles. One of those smiles Gary came to associate with warm sweet coffees. Or the sun peeping in full force through the clouds on a cold day. Something warm and tender like that. “Well, Gary, sugar… I am the one asking, aren’t I?” he reasons and yes, he is very right, isn’t he?

“Maybe you’re just being nice” Gary explains sheepishly and shrugs a bit, realizing he’s far off, if the amused look Rob’s throwing at him is any indicator of it.

“Really?” Rob asks, half amused, half directly laughing and shaking his head. Gary frowns, not fully understanding the reaction. To which Rob gladly explains with a “Do you still think that? I’m an asshole, remember? I wouldn’t ask you to stay just “to be nice.” Gary is positive he never called Rob that. Or, well, not since that day at the auditorium. ‘Cocky’? Sure. ‘Smug’? Several times. ‘Impossible’? Yes, definitely. And there was even that one time he called him insufferable, but never an asshole. That’s something he caught Robbie calling himself more than once in the past 72 hours that Gary’s known him in the context of their time spent together in this dorm. He’s called himself a lot of other things quite similar in tone to that adjective as well.

So, of course that a negative comes from his mouth to that and one if his hands goes directly to cup Rob’s face. “I think you’re not--- you’re not half of the twat you want people to think you are,” he says in a more serious tone, trying to look directly into Rob’s eyes, which is something that Rob’s not letting him do right now…

Rob stiffens a little bit and he cocks his head against Gary’s touch but his eyes are too sharp for that kind of sweet gesture. “Don’t do that--- don’t build me up in your head,” he says in a warning tone and Gary can only press his lips into a straight line because sometimes, honestly, sometimes Rob is so visibly hard on himself and Gary has no idea where that comes from. Where does all that self-doubt (and sometimes even self-hate) come from? He wonders if he’ll be able to know all those layers that make Rob who he is. Fantasizes with a hypothetical day he’ll be able to understand them all, discover and help him tackle them all.

“’m not” Gary assures him instead. “I’m really not,” he promises because that is not what he is doing. He is, in no way, mentally creating a mystical creature that’s stripped of all flaws with Rob’s face and body. He simply believes that Rob likes to pretend that he is a lot worse than he realistically is. To the point where he’s maybe convinced that he is just as bad as he’s trying to make himself sound sometimes.

And there’s this silence after that. One that they both accept. And this time, they are looking into each other’s eyes. It’s not awkward. It’s not uncomfortable. It’s not forced and it’s definitely not one that any of them rushed to make it end. It’s simply a kind of silence that is intense and that, most of it, it’s alright. It’s something they can share and Gary feels that damn tingly sensation in his belly, warm and unsettling and absolutely enjoyable.

“So… do you wanna spend the night or not?” Robbie murmurs in his ear, close, so close. His hold on Gary’s waist bone is a bit more firm now but there’s still this tint of insecurity in his eyes, like he’s not sure what the answer’s going to be or, maybe, worried that he sounds like he’s pleading. And, you know, unless he’s naked and on his knees, Rob doesn’t do begging. Or that’s what he very pointedly said a couple of hours ago when they were trying to decide who would drink the last glass of juice available. (They ended up sharing).

Gary smiles at that thought and decides to explain a bit why he’s not yelling an acceptance like his entire existence is asking him to, “I just… I don’t want to overstay my welcome” is what he says using two of his fingers to softly caress the corner of Rob’s neck where his hand is.

Rob’s response is to bark out a laugh, he can’t even help it. An involuntary laugh that Gary might not fully understand in reason but can tell is not a bad one at all. It’s more of a disbelieved laugh and not a mocking one. “You are such an idiot sometimes,” Rob informs him with a confident smile on his face, looking almost relieved, if you ask Gary. “So fucking correct and polite… you’d think I wanna punch you but mostly I just wanna kiss you until you shut the fuck up,” Rob admits closing the gap between their lips, still wearing that bold smile on his face.

“Is that right?” Gary asks, kissing him back and trying his best to pretend he’s not delighted by Rob’s words and melting, both at the same time, and failing miserably. Gary’s already aware that he’s becoming a massive mess under Rob’s influence, no need to pretend otherwise.

At that, Rob stiffens a bit, not uncomfortably but all pretend serious like. He raises his chin and scolds his face into an absolutely solemn expression before speaking again. “My dear English boy; please accept my cordial invitation to stay over for the night,” he says, using the most sobersided tone Gary’s hear Rob use so far.

Gary tries to replicate the seriousness in Rob’s demeanor when he answers “I kindly and gladly accept the invitation” without missing a beat and managing not to smile like a raging maniac, which is a huge accomplishment, considering just how much he’s enjoying the idea of Rob not wanting him to go. That Rob wants him one more night all for himself. And Gary knows it’s a bit foolish to be this enthused with something that might not be that big of a deal to Rob but… well, he is. He really fucking is.

Rob finally smiles bright and warmly at that, whispering a low and satisfied “Good” that get lost in Gary’s lips. _Close, so close._

“I like that,” Gary lets out without even thinking. “That smile you have now on you,” he clarifies and can’t help but give him one in return. Rob looks so inviting like this, all soft edges, pleasant and close, so damn _close_. He’s miles away from the bloke he met at that dingy bar. Rob really is a mystery to Gary and he can’t help but feel like the most curious person in the planet when it comes to this gorgeous conundrum that’s looking at him so earnestly. “It’s different. Sort of... unbound,” he tries to explain but knows it didn’t come out exactly how he wanted. Still, it wasn’t untrue.

And to his surprise, this time, Rob doesn’t shut him up or asks him to stop. Gary knew at this point that some things, some actions, could trigger Rob to pull away. And he really thought that announcing that he was already classifying Rob’s smiles would be one of those things. So, yes, he was surprised that Rob’s answer was to smile a bit wider. “You really are a softy and a cheesy fuck,” Rob whispers and suddenly his arms were circling Gary’s waist, holding him tightly.

“Yeah… I am” Gary answers proudly, still smiling and getting closer to his lips, parting them over Rob’s.

“It’s fucking endearing and you should stop it” Rob retorts pretending he wasn’t affected by Gary moving his hips. Pretending he didn’t even feel what was very fast becoming a hard on in Gary’s pants.

“I probably won’t” Gary warns him cheekily, only to move his hand from Rob’s lower back to his gorgeous arse under the fabric of his underwear, without a warning letting two fingers playfully get lost between his buns.

And to that, Rob stops pretending he wasn’t affected. He stops pretending altogether, because after a soft “fuck” that sounded like a precious promise to Gary’s ears, his mouth landed on Gary’s.

And for the rest of the night, Gary made it a point to use all the ways he could think of to affect Rob. He did it because he needed it. He just couldn’t shake this kind of desperate need to enjoy Rob like he was on his way to the electric chair and Rob was the tastiest last meal ever offered. Or… maybe something less dramatic. Only maybe.

Gary was being ridiculous, he knew. This was not their last night together. This was one of the firsts, right?

Yeah, Gary reckons he was being overly dramatic but for some reason couldn’t be bothered to fight it. Instead, he lost himself in Rob. That seemed to calm the desperation. At least for a little while…

***

 _Needy_.

As the hours passed, Rob was becoming more and more fucking needy. Desperate could be another word to describe it. Pathetic, was mostly the word Rob had picked for himself. Yes, he has been holding on to the concept that this weekend was a temporary thing, holding on for dear life. He’d been hoping for a clean cut of all the things Gary was doing with his head, with his… fuck, his heart, alright? He didn’t like to admit it but, there it is. And the only reason he’s been keeping it somewhat together, is _because_ he knew this was ending. And there would be no real loss, no real danger and no real heartbreak. Quit while you are ahead and all that. But now? Now that he only had hours left to enjoy Gary, he couldn’t help but want so furiously to enjoy every second left with this fucking fascinating creature lying next to him.

Rob was being a fucking moron. Basically.

Not only needy but also a fucking moron, if anyone’s making a list (Rob was); because it didn’t matter how much he was dreading the idea of leaving Gary behind, he also knew it was necessary. Self-preservation and all that. He _knew_ that, repeating it in his head like it was fucking gospel but still hating the idea of letting Gary leave this dorm and not seeing or even speaking to him ever again.

This was bad. Really fucking bad.

And Rob wished he could be a stronger person. Because if he were stronger, none of this shit would be happening. If he were a stronger person he could’ve just fucked this gorgeous brit he met at the Molly’s couple of nights ago and be done with it. Kicked him out of his dorm and be drinking beers with the lads now, maybe smoking a blunt. And also. That was utter bullshit. Because even the strongest man wouldn’t be able to resist the fucking amazing gift that is Gary freaking Barlow. Rob is sure of that as well.

A gift and an absolute weirdo because no one on this earth would be proud of having fucking octopus on their list of favorite sea food. But Gary was, the big freak. And he was trying to convince Rob that this was something he needed to try. As if. Seriously, _this_ is what they were talking about while being completely naked, with his ass amazingly sored and sort of (kind of) cuddling on Rob’s bed. Sea Food. Fucking squishy, slimy and disgusting sea food. When did his life become some kind of Monty Python sketch?

“But… how do you even know you don’t like it if you never even tried it?” Gary enquires wrapping his arms around Rob a bit firmer, his chest so distractively pressed against Rob’s back.

“’s not cock, Gaz. I don’t need to try octopus to know it probably tastes disgusting.” Rob eloquently puts it. He was not changing his mind any time soon. And also, yes, he’s calling him _Gaz_ now like it’s the most normal thing in the world. He noticed it a couple of hours ago when he called him that in the middle of an incredible orgasm courtesy of that gifted and determined thing that was Gary’s mouth. Previously it had bugged him, the fact that he was getting accustomed to something so close-sounding to a pet-name… but now he just doesn’t give a fuck. He’s too tired for giving a fuck. There’s not enough time left to give a fuck. “It’s all squishy and ropy and it looks like the last thing I want in my mouth,” Rob explains absolutely disgusted from even thinking about how the texture of that fucking creature must feel against his palate… or on his tongue. Yikes.

To that, Gary can’t help but laugh loudly, hiding his face in Rob’s neck. “Well… if _that’s_ the argument you’re going with,” he exclaims still laughing, making Rob’s skin shiver “but I never would’ve guessed you were such a strict lad when it came to putting things in your mouth” he finishes his obvious joke and Rob automatically remembers how surprised Gary was the first time Rob decided to go for it and eat his ass. The memory making his stomach flip and the smile that takes over his face is impossible to stop. Thank fuck no one’s looking. Of course Rob was thinking about scolding him for the joke; then again maybe Gary has a point.

So Rob opts for a “Oh, shut up” accompanied by a rolling of his eyes that Gary won’t even see because the only thing he’s seeing is the back of his neck in this position. So, Rob goes for a slap on Gary’s firm ass for good measure.

Not a long time after that ridiculous conversation, the topics start dying down and the silence filling the room while they both start drifting off. It’s like 3 in the morning and they definitely should be sleeping, considering Gary has to wake up in only five hours to go to class. To leave this dorm and, consequently, Rob’s life. And yeah, no wonder Rob couldn’t sleep. He didn’t want to sleep. He wanted to enjoy a bit more of Gary--- wanted _more_ , fucking hell. Just… a bit more. One more day, maybe. A couple more hours. But Gary was so adamant on not wanting to skip classes, explaining he couldn’t indulge in that kind of luxury because--- something about his teacher being a strict pain in the ass when it came to attendance. Rob wasn’t entirely sure because he kinda stopped listening after Gary decline the offer; too busy dealing with how disappointed he was that he couldn’t steal just one more day. Trying to deal with the fact that yes, this was it. No more days to steal. As soon as the morning came that would be that.

See? Rob was being a fucking pathetic moron, for sure.

It was not until the silence had won over and their breathing started settling in a rhythmic pattern that Rob’s head decided to gift him with a question he wanted answered. And because Rob couldn’t help it, he decided to give into that question “hey… you awake?” Rob speaks softly. Gary, on his part, doesn’t actually speak but he lets out a half asleep sound that at least indicates he wasn’t actually sleeping yet. “Can I ask you something?” Rob continues, determined even though he half knows he should let Gary sleep.

Gary moves a bit on his place before answering “you can ask me anything” in a groggy voice, still wrapping Rob’s torso with one of his hands and so fucking close it should be uncomfortable but mostly it was fucking lovely.

So without much further ado, Rob’s speaking again “was it…” he starts but stops mid-sentence because he realizes he doesn’t know _how_ to fucking ask something like that. “Was it good? This weekend… for you” is what he decides to go with and yeah, that’s a reasonable question, isn’t it? Surely Gary would understand what he means.

“What do you mean?” Or not. Maybe Gary’s still half asleep or something because Rob considers his question was pretty straight forward.

Alright… after a couple of seconds of looking for the words in his head, he prays Gary hasn’t fallen asleep and finally asks properly “I mean… do you feel good about it? First time and all that. Do you… I just wanna know if there’s anything you regret or will regret at some point.” There. That’s what he meant. He wants to know, that’s the thing. And he wants to know now; otherwise he won’t be able to sleep a wink. Maybe it’s an unfair thing to ask now while Gary is actually trying to sleep but, on the other hand, it’s a fairly simple question, right? Yes or no question even. Although Rob’s hoping for a bit more than yes or no.

“Oh…” Gary sounds like he’s actually waking up now, and it must be unfair but Rob’s glad he is. Mainly because he’s a selfish asshole and needs a real answer to that question so he can properly sleep. And because… he _really_ wants to know. He needs to know if he did everything right, if Gary’s going to remember this weekend and smile. He might hate Rob tomorrow, but at least he can remember these past days with something other than hatred. Eventually, right? “I don’t think so, no” Gary finally answers, after taking his precious time to think of the answer. Suddenly, Gary’s lips land on the back of Rob’s neck, sending a chill down his spine. Lovely. _Fucking lovely Gary Barlow._ “Rob, as far as first times go, this one’s for the books.” Gary says in the most earnest tone, matter-of-fact like and to that, Rob finally relaxes. What the fuck—he didn’t even notice he was holding his breath.

“Good” Rob murmurs, “I’m glad” he assures and finally closes his eyes. Tomorrow, when he loathes himself for pushing Gary away, at least he will have that. The notion that he could at least give that to Gary. _A first time for the books._ Rob can’t help but chuckle repeating that sentence in his head. “Question, though. What kind of books?” Rob asks, obviously amused.

“What?” Gary asks, confused.

“Well, I mean, what are these books? Could I read them? Are they like--- I don’t know, a universal encyclopedia of first times? Or are they more like a Penthouse Annual kind of thing?” he finishes his thought, still smiling like an asshole and openly teasing Gary’s choice of words.

“Oh my god, you’re insufferable” Rob doesn’t see it but he can fucking listen Gary rolling his eyes in the tone.

“Or are they like a collection of your first times?” Rob suggests in pretend-interested voice, still teasing and trying really hard not to laugh.

“Please, shut up” Gary asks and Rob almost yelps because suddenly he feels his fucking nipple being pinched a bit too hard to be considered stimulating. At least for his own personal taste.

Rob’s hand goes immediately to his nipple pretending it hurt more than it actually did because he does love the theatrics. “Wow, you are rude when you’re tired,” he declares.

“Yes, I am” Gary answers determined, trying to play serious even though Rob can practically hear the smile Gary’s wearing. “Now sleep,” he commands while adjusting his hold so they are even closer and hiding his face on Robbie’s neck again.

“Bossy, too” Rob teases a bit more while his entire body melts against Gary’s. It does feel lovely. He’s sure tomorrow he will wake up with a fucking torticollis if they sleep like this the entire night but, _whatever_. Bring on the pain. It will be fucking worth it. That kind of pain he can definitely deal with.

“Good night, Rob.” Gary says in an end-of-the-conversation kind of tone and Rob sighs.

“Night, grumpy” Rob murmurs before his eyes start feeling a bit heavy and he finally closes them.

The last thing he remembers before falling fast asleep is the warmth of Gary’s lips, gently kissing the nape of his neck and how loud his own heart seemed to react to that.

Yeah, _that_ kind of pain… he wouldn’t be able to take.

~ ~

“What time do you have your first class?” Rob asks handing Gary a big cup of coffee, black and especially strong. Gary needs it. They both do, actually. It was pretty damn early and considering that neither of them slept more than 4 hours, they had a really long day ahead of themselves.

“Thanks” Gary says, grabbing the mug and giving it a big gulp after making sure it wasn’t too hot. His eyes travels to the clock on the wall and he sighs once his throat has cleared. “In… well, an hour” he answers, sighing again.

And as far as Gary was concerned, it was going to be a particularly hard day for other reasons. None of them had anything to do with the few hours he managed to actually rest. And all of them had everything to do with the fact that he had a day ahead without the company of one Robert Williams. It was a bit silly to say it out loud, though. He knew. It’s not like he was leaving the country, for god sakes. He could even ask Rob to see each other tonight if he wanted to. It was silly to overthink this so much and it was absolutely out of the question to say anything because if he did, he knew how that would sound. If he let himself say half of the things that his head was thinking, even half of the things his heart was feeling, he’d be left there with his hands empty.

Because it was too much. It was _still_ too much.

Everything he was holding in was too much. It was bad enough he let Rob know exactly how much he managed to dishevel him without even trying that first night; bad enough he assured him without a shadow of a doubt that no one has had that kind of power over him before. It’s not that he regrets speaking his mind; it’s just that… it was more than enough information to bombard Rob with. And if all the other sentiments he was sheltering would come out the same way? Oh god, Gary might have a small panic attack at the possibility of making that mistake. He couldn’t help but feel constantly scared of the idea of stepping a bit too far, that’s the thing. He really didn’t want to do anything stupid enough that might push Robbie away. Yes, in a way he felt he was wearing Robbie down. Felt that he was opening up, accepting him, being so kind and welcoming; sometimes even sweet and tender in a very unnecessary way, if the only thing they were doing here was having meaningless sex. But also— Gary understood that some things for Rob were off limits and, after getting to know him these past three days, it was even easier to understand what those kinds of things were.

Or. Well, not _exactly_ because Rob was still a mystery is so many aspects, but Gary had a pretty good idea.

So yeah, it was a bit daft of him to be dreading the reality of leaving for class so much and pretty stupid to even consider saying something about it. So, he didn’t. Not exactly. But that didn’t mean he had to be easy about it either. Or that he wasn’t, every five seconds or so, sighing in clear discontent at the idea.

“And I have to go back to my dorm to change my clothes—so, I should be leaving soon,” Gary continues after giving another huge sip to his coffee. He could barely swallow before Rob was grabbing him by the arm and moving closer to him, enough to kiss him on the lips once.

It was a short but beautiful kiss that left Gary a little dizzy, wearing a dopey smile and his eyes closed. And short seconds after the kiss ended, Gary was surprised because the tone Rob used to almost bark a “Fuck, I hate this” definitely didn’t agree with how lovely Gary was feeling. So he opened his eyes to find a Robbie frowning hard, like he was thinking something he didn’t want to say out loud and frustrated about it. “It’s gonna be fucking hard to get back to reality after---” Rob stops and if Gary were delusional enough, he’ll be sure a ‘ _you’_ was the last word of that sentence. But it wasn’t. It was an “after all this” that sounded quite similar.

Which… got Gary smiling again, of course. Because even though he didn’t like to see Rob frustrated, it was nice to know he was not the only one absolutely fretting the inevitability of putting an end to this amazing weekend. So he gets closer to Rob and using two fingers to try and smooth Rob’s frown, Gary kisses him again. “I know exactly what you mean” he croons slightly brushing Rob’s lips. “But at some point we have to go back,” he tries being logical, using reason and all that he was supposed to be good at. “Plus, I haven’t been in my flat for all of three days. Dale might be ready to call the coppers or some such” Gary jokes (only slightly, he suspects).

“So dramatic” Rob murmurs, not moving an inch from Gary’s lips, using a hand to softy (and very suggestively, thanks, Gary noticed) caress his navel.

And it’s so difficult to control what Rob does to him. So impossibly difficult that he has to actually grunt out loud because of how hard he’s fighting with himself. His body wanting to give into Rob completely; get lost in him and forget all about courses, responsibilities and being a grounded man. “Let’s get dressed---” But he knows he can’t just let go; his old habits and what he knows he should be doing finally winning. “If anything, I wouldn’t like meeting Mark like this. I’m sure he’s lovely, but I don’t think I want him seeing me in my pants just yet” he reasons and he thinks he does have a point. After all, Rob said Mark was arriving some time during the morning.

“I think he’d like it a little bit too much for my comfort” Rob jokes. Or Gary thinks it is a joke, so he chuckles. And that little laugh doesn’t last very long because Rob’s all over him again, closing the distance between them and almost purring a “come ‘ere” that does only one thing and is make Gary’s entire body comply, trying his best not to lose his hold on the mug when Rob’s lips land on his.

 _What a kiss_ , Gary thinks. Not that he’s thinking much, mind.

It’s all smooth skin and soft brushing of lips; warm and soft and tender… it’s a whole new way of saying ‘good morning’ or… or maybe ‘goodbye.’ It’s the kind of kiss one gives to someone that matters, that’s the thing. That’s what Gary is feeling with every detail of it. And the worst part is that he should suppose it’s all in his head, but the truth is that he couldn’t entirely convince himself to think that. Because Rob’s hands were being too sweet, his tongue was massaging his but not in a desperate manner, the soft moaning noises that were leaving Rob’s mouth weren’t of desperation but of absolute bliss. Sweet. It’s all so very sweet, even affectionate… even if Rob never seemed like the kind of bloke to kiss like that, at some point during these days he started doing that and--- If Gary were a tiny amount more delusional, he’d even call it a loving kind of kiss.

And maybe he was _that_ delusional because the word was already planted in his brain and he was definitely having trouble finding air.

“Can we stay? Go back to bed? Forget about classes, grades, responsibilities and reality? Just… go back to Friday and do it all over again?” Gary almost pleads under his breath, holding the cup of coffee tighter so at least he’s holding on to _something_.

“Who needs college anyways,” Rob adds nonchalantly but smiles wide before going back to resume that kiss.

After a few seconds, Gary’s entire mind is a sea of _RobRobRob_ and the little determination he could master to actually go back to his day and start the school week was seriously starting to fly out the window. “I won’t be able to leave if you keep being this sweet,” he warns Rob and now the other man is the one grunting in frustration.

“Let’s go get dressed, sugar” Rob decides, stepping away from him but only enough to look at Gary in his eyes and he’s still smiling cheekily. He looks so gorgeous like this, Gary thinks. So close, so warm and almost playful. “I don’t want Mark meeting you naked. I wasn’t kidding about him probably liking it a hell of a lot more than I can accept.” Rob informs and kisses him again, fast and firm, before giving him a small slap on his arse cheek.

Gary looks at him go, shaking his head fondly and follows him. “Alright then--- I would very much like to avoid that as well” he manages to say somewhat coherently and he wonders if his face is looking as reddened as he feels it.

~ ~

Half of Rob had absolutely given up. That half was sure there were no amounts of coffee, alcohol or even drugs that would accomplish the hard (impossible) task that would be removing Gary from his head, his skin, his… yes, alright; he admits it-- from his fucking heart as well. He was sure that he was going to keep wearing every fucking corner of skin Gary marked even when he’d be fucking countless anonymous faces in the future. That half had no more fucks to give, was terribly tired of fighting and just… wanted Gary to finally leave. Get the fuck out of Rob’s life so he can start rebuilding himself and eventually go back to at least pretending he was not a fucking loser. An idiot who got himself into this fucking mess. A weak fucker who did the exact thing he was supposed to never do again.

And the other half? The other half was shutting the first half the fuck up. Because this part of him was really fucking desperate. Because he only had minutes left to enjoy the company of the most interesting man in the world. The most unnervingly gorgeous and lovely guy that was stupid enough to cross paths with him and instead of walking away, actually let Rob play with him.

Both parts wanted to scream at Gary. Tell him how fucking stupid he was being.

Because Gary kept, from time to time, hinting about future plans and the only thing that Rob could do was press his lips and pretend he was not yelling internally for him to just run away and shut the fuck up.

He’s not saying that Gary’s fallen for him, don’t get him wrong. He’s pretty sure that in some weird and fairer universe where Gary gets to actually know him, know all of his true colors, Gary’s smart enough to run away from him and not fall for him. This one would be no different if Robbie weren’t this determined to keep that promise he made himself days ago. There would be no falling. And even if it did, it wouldn’t last very long. And it wouldn’t be this fast, alright? He knows.

But. He also understood that Gary was being too sweet to him, too eager, too kind, and too interested in Robbie’s past, in Robbie’s head, in Robbie’s future. And that? That was not okay. And that was exactly what makes Rob think that he is going to fuck this up a lot more than he originally thought.

But he’s a piece of shit, right? So even if he felt like absolute garbage about it, he knew he was gonna still do it.

So, while these two halves were having a field day in his head, starting something like a world war in his fucking brain, he decided to be fucking strong for once in his life and told Gary to get dressed so he would finally be on his way out the door.

Only… well, Rob didn’t have to get dressed for at least a couple more hours so he was left with only one thing to do. Watch the fucking show that was Gary Barlow putting clothes on. Granted it was not as good as watching him take them off. Or being the one fortunate enough to take them off. But it was still really fucking erotic, alright? It was impossibly hot. Those toned legs were something out of this world. That incredibly firm ass was made by the gods themselves, Rob was fucking sure of that. His perfectly shaped back and the right amount of love-handles decorating the end of it; love-handles he had been lucky enough to bite. His strong arms, the same ones that wrapped around him while they were fucking on the couch, arms that held him tightly the four hours they managed to sleep last night. And… those hands. Fucking hell, _hands_ that played the piano for him; that gave him the gentlest touches and the most violent orgasms. Shit. Rob was sure Gary could do an entire calendar with pictures of those hands and they would be as effective as porn.

 _Fuck_. Rob was so fucked up he didn’t even care he was drowning at this point.

And while he was pretty much eating Gary with his eyes, Rob couldn’t help but think of all the things he didn’t get to actually do with him. All the physical things they didn’t have time to do together. It was haunting and fucking hopeless to be so aware that he never got to be inside of Gary, that he knew Gary was curious about it and probably would want that at some point but that he wouldn’t be the one doing that for him. Fuck. He wanted to be the one with the privilege. Rob really did.

Yes, of course he was only paying attention to his carnal needs because if he paid attention to the others he was gonna end up literally screaming at Gary in absolute desperation. Focusing on the sex was always easier, in general. This time it was fucking _necessary_.

Rob was not dealing well, basically.

And while he was focused on Gary’s face, on every detail obsessively, almost like he was trying to make sure he wouldn’t forget it any time soon (laughable, though. Rob knew he wasn’t going to forget this in a really, really, _really_ long time) he didn’t even realize that Gary had noticed Rob’s eyes on him and was now looking at him inquiring as ever and only slightly blushed because Rob’s expression gave him away. He was, after all, enjoying the sight that was Gary’s perfect body in motion. Personal struggles or not, Rob’s existence was enjoying the view and if there’s one thing that he is, when it comes to Gary, is fucking obvious with how much he’s hot for him.

“I feel compelled to inform you that if you keep looking at me like that, I won’t be able to finish getting dressed” Gary warns after clearing his throat and smiles a bit to fondly for Rob’s peace of mind, “not that I am complaining, mind.” He clarifies and those talented hands are now closing the buttons of his jeans. And it should be tragic but mainly it’s fucking provocative to Rob.

“You’re gonna be late” he forces himself to say. _Strong. Be strong, you idiot._

“Yeah…” Gary murmurs a bit put off but accepts it. Rob is right after all. It really is late and Gary has mentioned repeatedly that he has never been late to a class in his entire life. Rob wonders what that’s like.

There is this moment where none of them say a thing. The silence fills the room and it’s awkward. It really is. Only, Robbie doesn’t notice because he’s staring at the floor with such intensity, lost in his own head. Lost in how much he doesn’t want to do this; let Gary go. He can’t help but be weak, just for a couple of seconds, allowing his thoughts to go places they shouldn’t go. Like… the _what ifs_. What if Rob went looking for Gary later? What if he lets himself be honest with Gary? What if he lets him in, like, really in? What if he just… stops fighting it? What if Gary knows how to deal with him? What if Gary never leaves?

It all dies in his head, of course. Buried six feet under---Rob’s willing to put nails to that damn coffin, so those questions never actually crawl out to the surface. But. Well. _Fuck_. It stills unsettles the shit out of him.

That’s why he’s sure as fuck not ready for Gary saying “I’m done, sort of” when he finishes with his shoelaces and suddenly he’s all up in Rob’s face. Apparently that ‘sort of’ he voiced was meant to say that he needed to do something before he left.

And that something is the most destructively amazing kiss Rob has even received in his life. Actually, he might be a bit biased, but he’s sure that this is basically the best kiss in the entire fucking world.

Gary has no fucking mercy with how firm his hand is grabbing Rob’s jaw, redirecting his face up for better access. Demanding as fuck. His lips are soft but the kiss isn’t. It’s slow and deep. It’s fucking firm and determined, mouth open, with the perfect amount of tongue and teeth. It’s one that is saying something very pointedly, Rob realizes. Gary is telling him that he doesn’t want to leave, that he’s dreading this moment, that he’s not saying ‘goodbye’ but merely a ‘there’s more to come’ and at the same time he’s making sure that the last fucking kiss Rob receives from him is one that will destroy his entire life.

It’s fucking flawless.

And because of it, Rob’s throat closes immediately when Gary’s lips leave his. His chest hurting immediately and the desperation getting so fucking intense, Rob has no fucking clue how to react, how to be strong, how to let this man go… he doesn’t want to. He wants Gary to stop him, that’s what he fucking wants.

_Please stop me._

“I’m gonna miss you” is what he mutters and he’s not sure the other man heard him until he gets an impulsive answer in the form of another short kiss from Gary.

“I know the feeling--- I don’t think I’ll be able to think about anything else but you all day” Gary answers, so incredibly softly that Rob wants to laugh. The poor sod has no idea. Really, has no fucking clue of what Rob meant when he said he was going to miss him. It was a ‘goodbye’. It was a ‘don’t let me do this’. It was a declaration that Gary didn’t pick up on. It was Rob being fucking weak and an asshole at the same time.

And during those very seconds, the ones that Gary took before stepping away, Rob looked into his eyes feeling his chest bleed and decided _he_ was going to stop himself. So he grabs Gary’s hand instead, silently asking him not to go. Against everything he’s been holding on to these past few fucking days. Against everything he knew he should do to survive. He was going to stop himself.

He was going to ask Gary to see him again, the words almost coming out of his mouth while his head was in sheer panic of his stupidity. Only…

Only that never happened because suddenly there was another voice coming from the living room and it was one that Rob recognized in a heartbeat. One that always brought him peace and now it was not different. This voice calling his name came so clear and his head relaxed the second he heard it while his heart stopped beating. Or, well, not literally of course. But Rob swears that’s how it felt. Because that very voice stopped this moment of self-destruction and now he realizes how idiotic if would be to ask Gary to meet again. He chickened out. The moment was lost. And he was thankful, mainly. But also, heartbroken.

“Rooob, you home?? I need help! I bought groceries, help me put them away. Pretty please?” Mark’s voice is cheerful, so fucking cheerful and happy all over, sounding like he’s getting closer to Rob’s bedroom door “figured you have been eating left overs since Friday---” Mark keeps going but stops on his heels when he actually enters Rob’s room and sees the scene in front of him. Gary still standing next to Rob suddenly looks in Mark’s direction. “Oh--- I’m so sorry” Mark lets out, startled and trying his best to hide it. Which doesn’t really work.

And Rob knows exactly why he’s so surprised. This is not a recurrent sight; let’s just leave it at that. Rob usually kicks out people in the morning, if he even lets them sleep in at all. He usually doesn’t. Alright, that’s a lie. He _never_ does unless they are both absolutely plastered and they pass out. And this definitely doesn’t look like that. Mark can instantly see it all over Rob’s face. He’s so good at reading Rob. So fucking good. Rob hates it.

“Oh, it’s quite alright. I was on my way out” Gary tries to sound natural as ever and grins at Mark calmly. He looks at Rob and smiles as well, only it’s a different smile, his thumb caressing Rob’s hand. He gives it one light squeeze and Rob understands immediately that’s Gary’s way of saying goodbye. Rob says nothing. _Does_ nothing. He stays silently still while Gary walks in Mark’s direction and, subsequently, to the door. “I’m Gary by the way. Nice meeting you, Mark.” He politely greets Mark, smiling and earning an honest beaming smile from the younger man.

“Same here, mate” he answers still wearing that smile. At least he does, until Gary’s out the door and Rob collapses on the bed. Mark’s quick to basically run towards that bed and kneels on the floor so that he can try and find Robbie’s face, which is pointless because it’s hiding against a fucking pillow that smells like fucking Gary. “Rob…” he calls him and Rob closes his eyes harder. “Robbie?” Mark croons after a few seconds, patient as ever, placing a hand on Rob’s center back. He sighs and waits until Rob’s done having his moment. Eventually, Rob moves his head so he can look at Mark. “Oh Robbie… what the hell did you do?” his facial expressions are soft, understanding even. But he also looks concerned. Really fucking worried, even though he has shit of a clue of how right he is to ask Rob that question.

“I… I don’t know” is what Rob answers, because… he doesn’t know what he’s been doing for the past three days. Not really. What the fuck was he thinking? How could he be so fucking stupid?

But… what he does know? He does know he let Gary go, believing there would be a tomorrow and a lot more days like these past days. Believing Rob is not a shitty person.

“But it sure is over now,” Rob mutters.

Well, it’s done now. Doesn’t matter what Gary knows or doesn’t know. He’ll find out soon enough.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Come talk to me on [Tumblr](http://marea707.tumblr.com/) (:  
> [This](http://marea707.tumblr.com/tagged/fic%3A-1993) is the tag I have specially for this au.


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